My Funny Valentine
by Hate Finding Usernames
Summary: Jesse loves it. Beca hates it. Or she tries to, but there's something about the way Jesse looks at her that almost makes her change her mind on the stupidity of it all. - A collection of drabbles and oneshots based around Valentine's Day.
1. The Juice Pouch Valentine's

**I'm having terrible writers block on my other story, so to ensure that all my readers don't hate me for abandoning them and not updating, I'm going to have this little drabble series in honour of what is most definitely a terrible holiday. But I figure there's no harm in posting a few drabbles - or, more accurately, one for each day until the big V day. At least I'm going to try that. It could go hideously wrong. Don't hate me if it does.**

* * *

Jesse loves Valentine's Day.

Normally, anyway.

This year is different for him. Normally, he finds the romantic air cute, seeing all the happy couples who have found someone, watching as love blossoms before his eyes. He loves the goofy gift shop teddy bears, the cheesy cards, the overpriced chocolate. He loves that the air smells like roses and specially bought cologne. The whole day, he can look around and feel like he's stumbled into a movie. He's not sure why exactly, but he swears everything sparkles just a little more, than the colours pop brighter and the sun shines warmer.

But not this year.

Three weeks have passed since she shouted at him outside the prison. Three weeks full of misery. Three weeks of moping and not really knowing what to do himself. He had been avoiding her just as much as she was avoiding him, both doing their best to not bump into the other at the station or around campus.

After a long day rushing between classes and running errands – he tries not to over think that aspect – he falls heavily on his bed, having absolutely no intention to leave it until at least the following evening. Maybe even next week. Or never at all. Forever sounds pretty good to him right now.

He decides to just spend the day watching his favourite horror movies, drowning himself in popcorn and soda because juice pouches have very little appeal anymore. And it works, for the most part, in distracting him, until he looks up at the clock and sees it is midnight, and half of him is celebrating that the day is over, and the other half is freaking out because suddenly his 'errand' seems like a really, really bad idea.

Jesse really hates himself sometimes.

* * *

Beca doesn't _do _Valentine's Day.

The fact that a day is dedicated to showing someone how much you love them just baffles her. Sure, Beca isn't into that kind of stuff. She doesn't do feelings or emotions. She doesn't believe in having a better half. But just because she doesn't buy into all that, doesn't mean she thinks everyone who does is stupid. They must have their reasons. Granted, Beca thinks its bullshit. It's a money-making scheme that people fall for every year. And they do it so easily too; the amount of gooey, over the top gestures she has seen on Valentine's Day over the years makes her want to gouge her eyes out (she swears everyone at her high school had a simultaneous mental breakdown two years ago). She's sick of it. Sitting in the station, alone, playing vomit-worthy love songs all night is her idea of hell.

She won't admit to herself that it is the _alone _part that kills her most.

She misses him.

Not that she'll admit it to herself enough to gather up the courage to go and just damn well apologise. Like she should. Because she should – shouting at him was not the best move she's made, and she hurt him, she knows it, she saw it in his eyes when her dad dropped him off at the dorms – but that doesn't mean that she will. It's not like she needs him. Especially not today.

The only good thing about Valentine's is that the fancy chocolate boxes are always on offer the next day.

Chocolate. The most stereotypical way for a girl to wallow in her feelings, but damn if it isn't stereotypical for a reason.

It's just so _good_.

She is determined, however, to ignore the meaning of the day. She will not let it faze her. It's just a normal day, full of the usual monotony (apart from the stupid singing telegrams that Aubrey made her do all day, but she's determined to block that from her memory). She's just going to spend the night in the station, alone, not thinking about how Luke is out on a date and has forced her to be here, or how the person she's so used to spending her time with here is just _gone_, from the station and possibly her life. No, she will not think about that. She will focus everything on choosing the most ridiculous love songs on the planet and trying not to throw up at how ridiculous the whole charade is.

So when she falls back into Luke's chair, she is surprised to find the present resting in front of the keyboard. Her favourite flavoured juice pouch. And stuck to the side? A pink love heart shaped post it note with three simple words in an all too familiar scrawl.

_Happy Valentine's Day._

* * *

**So what did you all think? Should I continue? They'll mostly be just random. I might do them in order, so next chapter is their next valentine's... I don't know. If you guys have any Valentine's situations you'd like to see let me know, or I don't know, some prompts would be good. Let me know!**

**Hope you're all having a great day :)**


	2. The First Valentine's

**I don't know why I started this story so early when there's still two weeks to go until V day, but oh well! I can't believe how many of you reviewed telling me how you hated the day though - I thought most people loved it! Hopefully, I don't make you all change your minds with this collection, because you gotta love being in the anti-Valentine's club.**

**Thanks for reading my first one, and here's todays! A peak into Jesse and Beca's first Valentine's Day. Expect roses. A lot of them.**

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me."

Beca stares in horror at the scene before her, not really able to comprehend what Jesse had exactly done to her dorm room. It was like a giant assault on all of her senses, with all the _red_ – she wonders if maybe the blood from the grisly murder she was about to commit will blend in – and it's all so overwhelming.

He's got a blanket on the floor between her bed and Amy's, and there's rose petals all over the carpet that she knows are going to be a bitch to clear up in the morning and that she'll probably be finding for the rest of the year, rotting under her bed or between her sheets or – and this horrifies her more than anything – anywhere close to her precious music set up. There's a giant bunch of actual roses – so big they don't need a vase to stand up – on her desk, and he's strung fairy lights across the ceiling, between her records, around the edge of the floor. They twinkle at her, goading her about the whole situation, and she wonders how long it would take to smash every single one of those stupid little bulbs with the heel of her boot.

The smell of the roses is so strong she can actually taste it, and it distracts her enough that she doesn't notice the spread of food; all of her favourites, from strong cheddar cheese to potato skins to chocolate cake. There's juice pouches and a bottle of champagne, the expensive kind, in a little bucket with a cotton napkin wrapped around it like he's some kind of fancy waiter about to serve her dinner in some overpriced restaurant. She wishes he had done that instead. She wishes he had never bothered.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she repeats, because she spots it then; his laptop, lying innocently on her bed, and there's a small stack of movies that she knows he's going to force her to watch. She hates his laptop. She hates his stupid movie obsession. She hates him.

So she tells herself, anyway. She knows that she's probably incapable of feeling such harsh feelings towards him, but in that moment, she's teetering on the edge of fainting or panicking or jumping his bones. She doesn't know which instinct is stronger.

"I know, it's a little much." Jesse's rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and then his hands are wrapping around her waist from behind and she covers them with hers without even thinking, still lost in the shock of her surprise.

"I can't believe you did this," she manages to get out, her eyes still taking in the room, breathing through her mouth in an attempt to stop the stench of roses burning her nose.

"It's our first Valentine's," he says innocently, pressing an absent kiss to the crown of her head. "I wanted it to be special."

"I hate Valentine's Day," she replies automatically, but she leans back into his chest, her eyes finally adjusting to the vomit-worthy display that makes her dorm room look almost unidentifiable.

"Not for long you won't." He sounds so smug, so sure of himself, that she twists herself to see his face. He's flashing that grin at her, the one that means he's completely sure of himself, like he can so easily predict the future. She frowns, and it falters slightly.

"I can't believe you did this," she repeats, because really, she's at a loss for any other words. She turns back to the room, half expecting it to have disappeared, to have been some strange daydream and that she hasn't just returned from working a shift at the station with him and stumbled on this monstrosity.

"It's our first Valentine's," he says again, like it explains everything. "I had to make this one special. We can ignore all the rest if you really want to."

"After this I'm not sure we're going to have any more," she grumbles, but it's half-hearted and he knows it.

"Can you please just stop being so cynical and come have dinner with me?" She can hear the smile in his voice, and she has to fight back her own. Jesse's chest presses into her more, trying to force her further into the room, closer to the picnic, but her feet are rooted to the ground and all he achieves is making her a little breathless when his fingers accidentally slip along the newly bare skin above the waistband of her skin. Her shirt has ridden up from his grip and when he hears her breathing faltering, he keeps his fingers there, their tips just barely skimming along the flesh. It's not accidental now, and she tightens her grip on that hand, stopping their movement so she can carry on processing.

"I told you we weren't doing anything _romantic_ today." She practically spits out the offending word, disliking the taste of it as it mixes with the roses.

He shrugs, like it's no big deal that he went back on their agreement. "I ignored you."

"You could have forced me into watching movies much easier without this whole…" She doesn't know what to call it, so her sentence trails off and the room is silent for a beat.

"I don't want to watch movies." She marvels at his words, because when had Jesse ever not wanted to watch movies? "I want to eat all your favourite foods and talk to you and hear your laugh and hold you close and then maybe, just maybe, force you watch movies."

She feels a little part of herself melt, and she hates him for being so damn… Jesse.

There's a pause, and she drops her head back to his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment and letting herself feel how his arms are so tight around her. "You're the worst boyfriend ever."

She feels him tense, because it's probably the first time she's actually called him that out loud – she doesn't know, but it's something he'd care about, would keep track of – but he doesn't comment on it. She doesn't like labelling them, doesn't feel comfortable within the constraints of it, but he's cheesy and romantic and so _in _to her - far more than she ever expected him to be after 9 months being together – that she feels she owes him this. Jesse deserves to know he's not the only one trying with their relationship.

She's trying, she really is, and that is why, with a frustrated grumble, she pulls him along with her to the blanket, making a show of sitting down heavily, but he sees right through her because that's just what he does, and his grin makes it clear that he knows she's secretly half-enjoying this.

She finds herself reaching for his hand as soon as he has sat beside her, lacing their fingers together on the blanket, and his smile grows impossibly wider because he knows she has a thing about touching him. In public, it is very subtle – just a brushing of their hands or a bump of their elbows or a grazing of her fingers against his thigh. In private, when it is just the two of them, she likes his hands on her waist, her fingers in his hair, her cheek against his chest. It's ridiculous and girly and not at all something Beca expects herself to crave so much, but it's reassuring, feeling him on her skin. It shows her that he's there, that he wants to be there, and it's an odd comfort he never mentions aloud because he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.

It's another of those things she hates to love about him.

Not that she _loves_ him, she's not that gaga over him. Yet, anyway.

Okay, she's completely head over heels, but he decidedly does not need to know that. At least for another few months, when it's not as creepy or ridiculous at how quickly she has fallen for him.

He's staring at her, watching her mind spin, and he licks his lips, making her mind dizzy. His eyes are intruding in on her, and she can't find the will to tear herself away.

"Jesse." It comes out as a simple exhalation of breath, and she hates how needy it sounds but sometimes he just looks at her and it makes her all flushed and she gets tingles in her nose and her fingers and her toes.

He leans forward, and her eyes flutter close, and she can feel his breathe on her cheek. He smells homely, inviting, and she wonders how she never noticed this before, in the station and at competitions when she was trying so hard to not be the person she is now, with a boyfriend and a group of friends and a group to captain. Before she gave in to the ways his eyes make her feel like a live wire.

His lips don't touch hers, and she opens her eyes in confusion to find him popping a grape into his mouth, chewing with a cheeky smile. She bites her lip to stop herself from cursing at him, and she watches him impatiently. There must be something there in her gaze, because the smile falters and he slows his chewing and she watches him swallow thickly. She pulls her hand out of his just enough to trail it over his thigh, raising on her knees so she can lean over his crossed legs, and her nose bumps into his.

He's not breathing, and she holds herself millimetres away, pulling back as he tries to close the gap. He groans quietly and she smirks, enjoying the role reversal, and she's breathing the same air as him. It's hot and his eyes are watching her, half closed in anticipation. She stays there, on her hands and knees, for a moment before finally letting their lips touch.

It's soft and he doesn't push too hard at first, letting her have control, following her movements and threading his fingers into her hair, his fingertips pressing against her scalp. But suddenly she's rising and he's leaning back on his other hand to keep them steady, and she's straddling him with her thighs. He hums low in his throat and presses his ribs against hers, the hand in her hair curling into a fist and the slight tug makes her feel so good she wonders if every day could be Valentine's Day.

Because, really, if this is how it always goes, and she gets to feel him lower her back onto the blanket and press his weight against her as he kisses her neck… Well, she thinks she could easily get used to it.

* * *

**Oh Beca you big ol' softie! Speaking of, actually, I kinda imagined this taking place in the same universe thing as The Forgotten List (I don't know how many of you have read that, it's not needed, I'm not going to mention it so don't feel like I'm making you, why am I still rambling inside brackets) I think because I realised that if I do a chapter on each of their Valentine's, it will take me up to about the same time it's set... I don't know, I'm rambling again.**

**Let me know what you thought and hope you enjoy the last day of the the month!**


	3. The Notebook Valentine's

**So I have a very, very busy ahead ahead, and I'm going to do my best to keep up with this story but no promises. This chapter was going to be posted in two parts because its so long but I won't be posting anything else this weekend so consider this the bumper one :P apologies for lack of updates!**

**I don't know why I did this chapter this way. I hope it makes sense, and that you guys don't hate it. I don't know, I was just a bit inspired by The Notebook and how he writes her letters, and then the big kiss in the rain, and so this just happened and if you hate it that's fine, I won't hold it against you. It's pretty long, and I did not edit the sending times to be compatible for both countries. I'm far too lazy to look at it in that much detail.**

**Anyway, let me know what you guys think. And welcome to February!**

* * *

Sent Feb 2nd 2014 15:27  
From: Beca  
To: The Best Boyfriend Ever  
Subject: You're a dork

I cannot believe you are making me do this.

Seriously, this is the dorkiest thing you've ever make me do.

Okay, so your list of things to include in these emails it says I have to say hello. Seriously, Jesse? I'm not that bad.

I have to tell you about my day, so here it goes I suppose. I woke up at eleven, had a shower, which was rudely invaded by some guy who thinks he's amazing and incredible and God's gift to women. Then… Well, you know what happened. You were there, after all. After that, we went to get your stuff, and you held me tightly until your mum arrived. Seriously, I think I have bruises from how tight you hugged me.

Then you left, and don't think I missed that tear Swanson. I know you cried, you can't deny it.

It's been an hour since you left for your exotic family wedding, and I've since spent my time going through each of your dvd's and snapping all the discs. Finally, I am free from their torture.

Just noticed you saved yourself in my contact list as "Best Boyfriend Ever". Seriously, Jesse, your ego knows no bounds.

Your list also says to tell you how I'm feeling. Well I'm feeling great, there's nothing like the adrenaline rush of destroying your boyfriend's most prized possessions. I'm thinking I might take this crazy new talent of mine and move onto the station… Luke deserves it after all he's put us through.

What else… Jesse Swanson! Are you serious?! I'm not doing that! Urgh why do I put up with you.

Sent Feb 3rd 2014 00:54  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: Re: You know you love me really  
Attachments (1)

My darling Beca,  
Firstly, you must be bad enough to remind via my Super Awesome List Of Things To Email To Jesse While He Is Cruelly Snatched From His Becakins (or, as I fondly refer to it as, SALOTTETJWHICSFHB) because you _still _didn't say hello!

I find the fact that you couldn't even wait longer than an hour after my leaving to send this really adorable. You must really love me. However, please do not joke about defacing my private property. That is no laughing matter and the fact you thought it would make me laugh wounds me Beca. WOUNDS ME.

However, I wouldn't not find it funny if you were to trash the station. Although, if you could wait until I'm back in two weeks, that would also be awesome. After all, who else is going to bail you out of jail again?

Yeah I did change it, so what? You know it's true. It's not showing off if it's _true _;)

I don't know why you're so offended by it. It's not like I haven't seen any of it before! But fine, sure, if you feel it must be taken off the list, go ahead…

We landed a few hours ago, and Bec you wouldn't believe how amazing it is here! Portugal is seriously amazing. I attached a picture for you. Spoiler alert: It's me looking absolutely amazing at the beach.

I wish you were here with me. I miss you already.

Lots of love,

Best boyfriend ever

Sent Feb 3rd 2014 02:41  
From: Beca  
To: Best Boyfriend Ever  
Subject: RE: RE: Re: It's up for debate  
Attachments (1)

_HELLO._

Don't let it go to your head – It was just that it was the only free time I had today. I was at Bella's rehearsals all evening and then my dad decided he had to see me… To answer your inevitable question about why I'm up so late replying, it's because I'm mixing for semi-finals. I don't have classes tomorrow until the afternoon so I have all morning to sleep before I tactically avoid going.

I wasn't joking, I really did smash them (see attachment).

And as for your attachment, well, my dreamy gorgeous boyfriend, I'm so proud to be associated with you. Really, you look great. Nothing more handsome than the derp face.

Also, in reply to your dig at my criminal record, I wouldn't expect you to bail me out because you didn't bail me out the first time! So that's enough from you thank you very much.

Sent Feb 4th 2014 16:26  
From: Beca  
To: Best Boyfriend Ever  
Subject: RE: RE: Re: You're still a dork

Hey, Swanson. You haven't replied to my last email so I guess you're busy, but I'm keeping to our agreement and emailing anyway.

Today has been pretty much the same as yesterday. I slept in and actually went to class this afternoon. I have Bella's practise in a few minutes and thanks to staying up last night, I actually have most of the mix done now. They made a few jokes about how much I get done with you gone, but I won't repeat them. Let's just say Amy and Stacie said most of them.

I'm working at the station tonight, got a shift in the booth at prime time so I'm looking forward to it. Luke seems to be over his miserable faze of failing to graduate, so it's not as depressing in there either.

How's the trip? Has your cousin become a total bridezilla yet?

Sent Feb 5th 2014 07:05  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Re: I'm your dork

Hola from the distant shores of Europe! I finally found a free minute to escape to the internet café down the road from our hotel. My family is crazy, I swear. I think we've seen almost the whole country in the space of two days. I am so tired already and we have another full day today heading to some big market that my mum heard was a few towns over. I woke up extra early just to let you know how I am.

You terrified me with that joke, Miss Mitchell. I cannot believe you thought to scare me that way. I don't know if I'm angry about it or happy that you sent me that kick ass picture of you holding that insulting sign with a few very risky words for such a public place.

Hope the Bella's are all okay, and don't stress out too much! You know we're going to beat you at the semi-finals so I don't even know why you're trying.

Speaking of, have you seen my Trebles? How are they? I get the feeling that leaving them in Benji's hands was not the best idea.

My cousin is completely insane (her name is Freya, you know. I don't know why you don't just call her by her name - you've met her twice) and she's scaring me a little. We're trying to stay away, so really I'm kinda thankful for all the sightseeing. We have to go and see some guy about something (I wasn't listening) this evening so that will probably be very boring.

Miss you.

Sent Feb 5th 2014 10:02  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: You have co-dependency issues  
Attachment (1): 

I'm glad your trip is so wonderful! Pass on a hello to your family; I really am sorry I couldn't make it. At least I get to miss you trying (and failing) to make me like Valentine's again. I'm still finding those stupid rose petals in my stuff.

The Bella's are okay, if completely insane and inappropriate is the definition of okay. They liked the mix so we're now just building on it, trying to get it up to the incredible standards that you can never dream of achieving! I actually bumped into Benji last night; I think he's a little lost without you. Bless, it's so cute how you guys have your little bromance going on. He says the Treble's are okay, and to tell you that the plan is working? Something like that.

Don't think I missed how you said the Treble's were yours. You really are possessive, its borderline creepy.

I attached a mix for you. I don't know if you'll be able to listen it or anything, but I thought you might like it. Maybe you can use it to drown out Freya's freak outs. I don't know, whatever. And I miss you too. Just a little bit. Barely even noticeable.

My shift at the station the other night went really well, and Luke's giving me another one tonight. I think he might actually be slowly forgiving me for the desk thing! Luckily the new intern has become designated lunch-fetcher, so I don't have to take over your job.

Hope you're having a great time.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:23  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault  
Attachments (5)

You didn't email yesterday, are you okay? There are numerous situations running through my brain… If you got murdered, I promise to avenge you. Though if someone tried to murder you, that ear spike of yours would easily take them out.

I'm sorry I couldn't reply yesterday, but Freya went crazy over wedding plans. She actually went purple at one point, I swear. Good luck to Frank; he's a champ for sticking by her and wanting to marry her. Ah, the strength of love! I included some pictures for you. I thought you might like to see the church, and my parents insisted on the last one. Don't ask me why they're posing like that. I just took the picture.

I cannot believe you are complaining about The Best Valentine's Ever. You know you loved it, and I won't go into details because I'm surrounded by nosy tourists, but you remember. Last Valentine's rocked your world (in more ways than one).

That definition of okay is what makes the Bella's so special! You're a bunch of weirdo's who band together and are pretty damn good together. Not as good as the Treble's, obviously, but you know, you can't be amazing at everything.

Tell Benji I have received his message loud and clear. You must also salute. And maybe check on him in a few days? Make sure he hasn't suffocated to death in that swords box of his? He's been trying to perfect that trick for two years, and he's passed out four times while I've been with him – God knows how many times when I'm out.

Thanks for my mix – it was excellent, and may I say, I see what you did there with the music choice! How sweet of you to include all our meaningful songs. Seriously, Beca, thank you. It's really great. And congratulations on your new shift, I wish I could tune in to hear more of your music.

I know you miss me as much as I miss you, so don't even try and play it down.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:25  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

Hey Jesse, you still there?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:26  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

Yeah I'm here. You okay?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:26  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I'm good, just woke up to your email. How're you?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:28  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I'm okay, tired is all.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:31  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

You still there?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:32  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I'm still here. Wish you were too.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:33  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

Me too Bec. Wish you'd let me pay to take you with me.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:35  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

You know I couldn't leave. I have the Bella's, and the station, and I'm finally starting to catch up on my classes…

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:36  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I still miss you.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:37  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I miss you too, nerd.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:38  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

You're watching The Breakfast Club aren't you?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:39  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

…No.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:39  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

You always get sappy when we watch it. Did Benji let you in?

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:40  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

I was making sure he wasn't suffocating, is all. Nothing to do with missing you.

Sent Feb 7th 2014 11:40  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: It's not my fault

You're not fooling anyone, kid.

My internet usage is about to run out so I have to go – email me later about your day okay?

I love you.

Sent Feb 8th 2014 03:32  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: SEXY PICS INSIDE  
Attachments (2):

HEY JESE  
BECAAAAAAA HERE I AN SO HOT FOR YOU RIT NOW  
GET BCK HEAR AND LETS DO IT LIKE RIBITS  
LOOK AT MY AWESUM PICS DO THEY AROUSE YOU  
IF YOU DNT GT BACK I WILL GO TO LUK  
OH YH SEXEEEEEEE BRITISH MAN BEAST

Sent Feb 8th 2014 18:12  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

Uh… Hey Amy. Thanks for that lovely email. I really enjoyed those beautiful pictures of my drunk girlfriend bent over the toilet. They were really something.

Hope you're okay babe. I see you finally let them take you out to the frat party. How's the hangover?

Sent Feb 8th 2014 20:01  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

They tied me up Jesse. They literally tied me to a chair and forced me into a dress and did my make up. I was dragged to the party, and I don't remember a lot of it, but I remember Stacie demanding we do shots, and I remember being upside down. Jesse my head hurts so bad. Benji dug out your spare juice pouches for me, and I've been ignoring Amy all day. I'm so sorry she sent you that email. She's such a bitch, I'll get her back with drills at the next Bella's rehearsal.

Sent Feb 8th 2014 20:04  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

Oh no. I just saw the pictures.

Sent Feb 8th 2014 20:05  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

Oh I look a mess. Please don't tell me any of your family saw those. Please.

Sent Feb 8th 2014 20:07  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

She sent them to my dad.

I'm going to get her back for this so badly.

Sent Feb 9th 2014 09:14  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: Re: SEXY PICS INSIDE

Beca, please don't kill her. I know I joked about the ear spike being able to take someone out but Amy basically got you arrested freshman year because she was trying to shove a trophy up some guys butt. You're feisty, but you can't take her. Seek revenge another way.

Hope you're feeling okay now?

Everyone here is on crunch down, now there's only five days until the wedding. I'll do my best to make it back to this café so I can reply to your emails but there's a lot to do, what with a lot of the guests arriving tomorrow.

Can't wait to see you next week.

Sent Feb 9th 2014 13:53  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Re: Amy is a bitch

I need Bumper's number.

Sent Feb 11th 2014 06:32  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: Don't kill her

Why do you need Bumper's number?

You're doing that thing again. This is why I said to email me every day! I have to know you're okay and all I get is an anger fuelled request. Don't be rash. The pictures weren't that bad. I'm sure your dad didn't even see them.

You okay?

Sent Feb 11th 2014 17:03  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Re: I might

It's okay, I got the number. Revenge has been delivered. Let's just say Amy shouldn't hand over her phone to the girl she pranked. Bumper won't be leaving her alone for a very long time.

Dad saw them. He wasn't pleased.

I'm okay, Jesse, I promise. Things have been overly busy, what with my new shifts at the station on top of rehearsals. I have a massive paper due in Philosophy in a few days that I need to crack down on so I've been a bit bogged down. But I'm fine.

How's the wedding arrangements going? If guests are arriving, does that mean Rick is there? Promise me you won't do anything stupid. I know how you two get around each other.

Sent Feb 12th 2014 11:09  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: You okay?

New day, and I'm sticking to the plan! Though it really doesn't change much. Wake up, classes, Bella's practise, station, bed. That's pretty much my day. Every day. Funny how I didn't realise how boring life was without you here.

I mean it about Rick. I know it's exciting to see him, but you're not in middle school anymore. Be careful Jesse.

Sent Feb 12th 2014 20:57  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: Re: You okay?  
Attachments (1)

Hey baby! Don't you worry, Rick and I are all grown up. No stupid antics tonight, I promise! We're just going to hit a bar down the road, nothing can go wrong.

I love you Beca! Only four more days until I'm home to you – can't wait.

Sent Feb 13th 2014 09:10  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: RE: RE: Re: You okay?

If you come home with a broken leg I will attack you with the damned ear spike. I'm serious, your night out with Rick the last time we visited your parents scared me enough. I don't want to have to pick you up from a bar again. Not that I can, because you're on the other side of the world and I don't really like you enough to pay for that flight to find you.

The Bella's have a performance at some alumni gathering in two days. I'll be imagining you in the crowd, pulling your silly faces as you normally do.

I love you too. Please stay safe.

Sent Feb 14th 2014 00:06  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Girlfriend waiting for a reply…

Wedding day today for you. Hope it all goes smoothly. Hope you aren't somewhere being ridiculous with Ricky. Or dead in a ditch. I'll kill you if you somehow got yourself murdered.

Everything okay this end. Benji is asking after you. I told him you were good and having lots of fun.

I miss you.

Sent Feb 14th 2014 17:35  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Seriously?

I can't believe you set the Treble's up to sing to me. You're such a weirdo.

I love you.

Sent Feb 14th 2014 23:59  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: (Blank)

Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse.

Sent Feb 15th 2014 12:40  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: I'm not emailing you anymore

I feel like one of those stupid girls from one of your stupid movies, waiting for you to damn well email me back for the past three days. Well, I'm not doing it anymore. Screw you and your stupid plan. I'm not spending another day waiting for your reply.

Sent Feb 15th 2014 14:01  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Sorry

It's possible that watching TBC when I miss you so much is a bad idea. Was a bit harsh, sorry. Of course you're busy.

Sent Feb 15th 2014 16:37  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: I miss you

Amy got me back. Word of warning: I'll probably be ridiculously sparkly for the next few weeks.

Sent Feb 15th 2014 21:49  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Oh God who have I become

Next time you have to go away somewhere, I'm going with you. This is ridiculous. I'll just sell your movie collection, I'm bound to get at least something for it all.

Sent Feb 15th 2014 23:23  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Tomorrow

You're home in twelve hours. I hate how excited I am over this.

Sent Feb 16th 2014 12:53  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: ?

You're late. Where are you?

Sent Feb 16th 2014 13:09  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: ?

I don't know why I'm emailing you still. I just… Urgh what is wrong with you?! Would you hurry up already!

Sent Feb 16th 2014 13:11  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: Shut up

Would you look away from your computer and stop shouting at me for two seconds and look out of your god damn window?

Sent Feb 16th 2014 13:12  
From: Beca  
To: My Dork  
Subject: Re: Shut up

You're such a dork.

Sent Feb 17th 2014 00:43  
From: Jesse  
To: Ear Spike Girl  
Subject: My Becakins

Hey love,

So right now, you're asleep next to me, and I'm struggling to balance my laptop and type all with one hand (You've taken the other hostage, and even in your sleep your grip is really quite impressive). Also, the glitter? I know I said I wouldn't laugh anymore but it's so damn funny. I'm sure after our evening I'll be covered in the stuff just as much.

Anyway, I know this email probably seems ridiculous to you, but you don't do well with the feelings stuff, and that's okay. I just wanted you to know this.

I missed you. From the moment I let you go and got in that car, I missed you. Being away from you was so difficult, and I'm so glad I asked you to send me those emails, because I don't know what I wold have done without them. They were my little snapshots into your day, into how you were, and I loved all of them. Even Amy's one.

I know you missed me too. Benji told me you've slept in my bed almost every night. I wish I'd been here to hold you, like I am now. God it's so good to have you back in my arms. It's ridiculous how wrong I felt without you.

I'm not letting you go again. Ever. I'll be there to hold you for the rest of our lives. It's something I've never been so certain of my entire life. I know that scares you, Beca. But it's okay. You don't need to be scared of something that is so right. I know you believe it too, deep down. I knew when you ran out of Baker hall at full speed and jumped straight into my arms. I knew when you kissed me despite your hatred of any form of PDA. I knew when you quoted The Notebook at me and I realised you'd recreated that scene you always tease me about.

I love you so much more than I ever thought possible because of that.

(And I also find the way you channelled Mean Girls for your revenge on Amy really, really attractive. And I thank you kindly for not re-enacting a horror movie over the stitches on my forehead – they're not as bad as they look, I promise, so you can stop glaring at them any day now. I didn't ruin the wedding photos, and Rick was very apologetic.)

Sleep well, babe. I'll be here when you wake up.

* * *

**Was it terrible? It feels terrible. I just couldn't resist doing it, and it took ages to write (like literally all day yesterday) so I'm just posting it because I'm struggling for ideas for possible Valentine's stuff. If you guys want to send me any random word prompts, any songs, any movies, then please be my guest. I'll write what I can and hopefully you all like it.**

**also I apologise because my editing isn't working for done reason. The email info is supposed to be underlined but it refuses and the attachments screwed up so I'm very unhappy. Sorry.**


	4. The 3-Part Valentine's (1)

**So this chapter is part one of probably three. It turned out a lot longer than I thought it would so I'm going to split it up across a few days. It's from a prompt given by the lovely BittyAB18 who has been incredible with all her ideas and suggestions. Plot credit goes to her; I've just written it.**

**This chapter isn't fantastic, because it's an AU and I had to establish what had happened to make it an AU. This chapter is there meeting, and is not set at Valentine's (that bit will come later). I hope you all enjoy it anyway, and let me know if anything confusing about this chapter and I'll rectify it in the next part. Please review and let me know if you liked it!**

* * *

**THE JESSE-ALMOST-GOES-TO-JAIL VALENTINE'S (PART 1)**

He meets her at the place neither of them wants to be.

"Why am I here?" Jesse Swanson groans, half to his friend Benji who stands by his side, and half to himself. He's tired, and the drink in his hand isn't exactly helping that feeling, and he just wants to be in bed. He is supposed to be at this big work gathering that got cancelled last minute when a flu outbreak hits their offices. His body hasn't yet fully recovered from his turn of having the flu, and being upright in a place full of people that he doesn't really know is the least appealing thing in the world to him right now.

"Because we weren't sure if Donald's threats of 'be there or die' were empty or not." Benji sips from his sparkling water, and Jesse briefly wonders if the guy has ever actually consumed alcohol in his 22 years.

"I blame this all on you." He bumps his elbow against Benji's playfully. "If I hadn't moved in and you hadn't introduced me to all your crazy college friends, I wouldn't be in this position."

"You wouldn't have a bed to sleep in either." Benji smiles at a redhead who catches his eye across the crowded room, squealing happily as she jumps on some guys back. She urges him over from their position against the wall, but he shakes his head shyly.

"Who's that again?" Jesse asks, seeing the wordless interaction.

"Chloe Beale. Kindergarten teacher. Wanted to be on Broadway, but she got nodes her senior year at Barden and it ruined her dream."

"What are nodes?"

"Vocal nodules." Benji tears his eyes away from Chloe, who is shouting into her phone and demanding to be carried somewhere, and looks at his roommate, who is nodding as if this is vital information that he completely understands.

"And she was a Bella," he tries to clarify, because even though the topic bores him slightly, at least it's a topic.

"She was like, second in command during my first year." He raises himself up on his toes for a second, looking for someone. "She's best friends with Aubrey, who was the leader and pretty much single handedly ruined the team." He points at the blonde, who is chatting eagerly to a guy who looks less than thrilled to be listening to her.

"Oh! Pukegate?"

"That was first, and then she took over the group and was so controlling and ridiculous that the girls lost the semi finals that year." Benji's brow furrows slightly, and Jesse doesn't know whether to find his incredible knowledge on the whole thing amusing or worrying.

"She doesn't seem that bad," Jesse reasons, sipping his beer while he watched her in mild interest. The guy had made his excuses and left, and she was scowling at something across the room, pushing her way harshly through the crowd.

"Oh trust me, she's bad."

Across the room, Beca Mitchell is all too aware of this fact. She grimaces as a tipsy Chloe leads her through the house to what she presumes was once the living room, the redhead chattering excitedly in her ear.

"I'm so glad you're here Beca, it's been too long!" she enthuses. "Isn't it great how we're now in the same city? I'm so glad we kept in touch after Barden, really, it's so lovely to see you." Chloe guides her, waving at people as she goes, bobbing her head in time to the heavy beat. "Isn't this great?"

"It sure is something," Beca says, her eyes taking in the room. She wonders how she possibly ended up here. She is supposed to be, well, anywhere but here, that's for sure. She could be doing something productive, or something relatively interesting, but instead she's at this party where all her old college friends are. Some being people she holds very little interest in seeing again.

Speak of the devil.

"Chloe? What is she doing here?" Aubrey Posen, the girl with the face that can so easily send Beca into a rage, pushes through to them and her lips are pressed together in old frustration, her tone unwelcoming. Beca smiles sarcastically.

"Nice to see you too, Aubrey," she says in a fake upbeat tone.

"She's here because I invited her." Chloe jutted out her chin in a poor attempt at standing up to her ridiculous friend. "She has just as much right to be here as you."

"You can't seriously still be holding a grudge," Beca says in amusement, and the glare Aubrey sends her is enough to convince her that yes, she seriously still is.

"You guys don't have to talk all night, so there's no harm in this, okay?" Chloe nudges Beca and the brunette walks away with one last look at the fuming blonde.

"It's been four years, you'd think she'd be over it by now," Beca calls over the music as they walk towards the drinks table.

"She disgraced herself, left Barden as the vomiting girl who couldn't redeem herself." Chloe shrugs, sympathetic for her old friend. "Maybe just… Don't go near her?"

Beca thinks the perfect distance between them is if Aubrey's here and she's at home.

"Beca!" Donald appears through the crowd, arms raised about his head in excitement as he spots his old friend, and she grins genuinely at him. He'd been decent to her, a better friend than she expected from the sidekick of Bumper (a presumption she was later happy to take from her mind once she got to know him) and he wraps his arms around her and Chloe's shoulder, walking them the short distance to the drinks table as he chatters.

"You're looking fantastic Mitchie. The LA sun suits you!" he approves, taking in her slightly more golden toned skin which contrasts nicely with the tight black dress she has been forced into. She cringes at the old nickname the Treble's gave her that she always hated, but doesn't mention it. She knows better than to protest against it.

"Awesome party Donald," she comments, trying to sound upbeat.

"Yeah it's aca-awesome!" Chloe enthuses, stumbling a little on her heels. She grabs a cup from the table and pours an awfully large amount of some strong alcoholic substance into it, thrusting it into Beca's face and forcing the brunette to take it.

"Thank you, my baby bubbles." He grins at them, topping up his own drink, and then turns to Beca in surprise.

"Oh! Have you seen everyone yet? I know there's someone here who's dying to see you!" He says as she shakes her head. She opens her mouth but before she can form words he's yelling over the music, waving at someone, and within seconds she's looking into a face that she knows so very well.

"Benji!" she says happily, raising an arm and letting him hug her (okay, so she doesn't like this normally, but Benji is a touchy feely kind of guy and she makes an exception for him).

"Hey Mitchie, you look good. As do you Chloe." He smiles shyly at them and then gestures to the guy standing next to him that she hadn't noticed. He's grinning at her and bobbing his head to the beat of the song, and she spares him only a passing glance. "This is Jesse, my friend and roommate. Jesse, this is Beca and Chloe."

The brown eyed guy who seems to be flat out staring at her only grins wider at her unimpressed expression. "Ah, the legend that is Beca. Nice to finally meet you."

"The legend?" She quirks an eyebrow at Benji who shifts shyly.

"He's told me all about Barden. You were quite the game changer I hear." Jesse's eye flicker over her, taking her in. She's attractive, there's no denying it, with her tight dress and her smoked out eyes and the scary ear spike that gives her that edge, that _thing_ he always finds so appealing in women. She's a challenge, he can tell by the way her face is controlled and her body language screams _I don't want to be here_.

"I wasn't a game changer, I just –"

"Single handedly changed the face of acapella by rejoining the Bella's your sophomore year and taking them from a disaster to a team that has gone down in history for its crazy good mixes," Benji finishes for her, and she rolls her eyes. She's vaguely aware that Chloe has wondered off with some guy, and she curses her friend for being so easily distracted by the opposite sex.

"I did not rejoin the Bella's. I was forced into it." Beca crosses her arms over her chest, trying to think of a way out of here, at the same time as avoiding this new guys penetrating gaze. It's a little creepy, and she's not drunk enough to deal with this kind of stuff. She throws her head back and downs the strange drink Chloe had made for her, wincing a little at how strong it is.

"You took over as captain junior year. You weren't forced, we all know you secretly loved the Bella's." Benji smiles at her in that boyish way that always makes her smile back.

"Why are we discussing this anyway? It's ancient history."

"Ancient History began over 5000 years ago and stops at the middle ages," Jesse cuts in with a cocky grin, and Beca grinds her teeth together. Who does this guy think he is? "You guys only left Barden a year and a half ago."

"Wow. You know, for a guy who didn't go to college with us, you sure do seem to know an awful lot about it. Creepily so. Benji, are you sure he isn't some murderous stalker?" She smiles sarcastically at him, but Jesse's grin just grows wider.

"I nearly went to Barden actually, hence why I took an interest in it when I found out Benji went. Just think, we could have been friends there if I hadn't gone to NYU."

"I highly doubt that," she scoffs.

"Who knows? Maybe you might have fallen for my awesome charm and great looks. We could have been lovers."

He could not be more cocky if he tried, and Beca wants nothing more than to get away from this guy as soon as possible. "Please don't say lovers. It just makes you even more creepy."

"Really, it seems like fate that we've met tonight. Evidently, we're destined to be together." He looks amused, like he's just messing around with her, but she's tired and she just wants to be at home in her pyjamas with her laptop.

"And that's me out," she says with a heavy exhale, putting her cup down on the table. "It was nice to see you Benji." She just eyes Jesse warily, and he bows grandly in goodbye. She clenches her fists and wonders how on earth her friend puts up with him. She's been in his presence for fifteen minutes and she's exhausted.

"Hopefully I'll see you soon, Beca?" Benji calls after her when she turns to leave. She twists back and nods, heading to the door, and Jesse watches her leave, biting his lip as he smiles. _Wow._

"I think she liked you," Benji says doubtfully.

"She's really making me regret my decision to turn down Barden, that's for sure," Jesse says, a little in a daze as he stares at the door she has exited out of.

"I wouldn't try it, Jesse," Benji sighs. "You'll be fighting a losing battle if you go after her."

But Jesse just smirks at him knowingly, shrugging casually. "I love a good challenge."

* * *

**So in this idea, to clarify, Jesse never went to Barden. This means he had no impact on the other's lives, and therefore things went a bit differently. Beca walked away from the Bella's at the semi finals and didn't return, and her father told her it wasn't good enough and that she had to stay at Barden. She returns to the Bella's after Amy begs her and they ask her to take control of the song choice aspects. They win finals that year and the relationship between the Treble's and Bella's improves when the oath is vetoed by all the girls - hence the nicknames and why Benji and Beca know each other (Benji is accepted into the Treble's during sophmore year). Any questions? Thoughts? Confusions? Let me know!**


	5. The 3-Part Valentine's (2)

**Hey guys! Thanks for your great response :) Here is part 2, and part 3 will hopefully be up tomorrow, and then I will go back to oneshots for this story (got one already written so I should be on track!)**

**Nod to reviewer penagain who spotted the Bones quote I forgot to reference. Gotta love a fellow Bones fan!**

**UPDATE: I was rereading through this and I realised I left a whole scene out of this chapter! I'm adding it in and I really apologise, I seriously don't know how I missed it out. I'm very angry at my myself for it. It's right at the top so continue reading down and again, so sorry!**

* * *

**THE JESSE-ALMOST-GOES-TO-JAIL VALENTINE'S (PART 2)**

The next time he sees her is at Benji's birthday dinner a month later.

He may or may not have fixed it so he's seated next to her. And he may or may not feel a little pleased with himself when she walks into the restaurant late and groans at the only seat available, next to him. She sits in it, greeting everyone else in attendance with a tight smile, and he knows tonight is going to be a good night.

"Would you look at that? Back in the presence of the legend," he greets her as she hangs her jacket over the back of her chair, pointedly avoiding his eyes.

"Would you look at that? Back in the presence of the asshole," she retorts casually, brushing her hair off her face as she settles into her seat. He notes the flush to her cheeks, the light shine on her forehead, and he knows she rushed to try and be on time. He thinks it's sweet, and it makes him smile genuinely at her.

"Tell me, are you always so nice to near-strangers? Or is this charming side of you reserved just for me?"

She just shot him a look that told him she had evidently got out of the wrong side of bed this morning (though he wondered if she always seemed that way) and he can't suppress the smile that spread across his face.

"You got a real ego problem, you know that?" she says finally, watching how his eyes shine in amusement. It's frustrating; _he's _frustrating; and she hates that she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her lips forming a smile.

"Well it can match your attitude problem then."

"My attitude is none of your business."

"Considering I'm going to be making polite small talk with you all night, I really think it is."

"Well I really think you could just not talk to me at all, I'd sure appreciate it."

"Beca you made it!" She breaks her stare with Jesse to look up at Benji, grinning at her happily from a few seats up at the head of the table.

"Happy birthday Benji." She smiles back.

He eyes the apparently obvious tension between the pair. "Don't let him wind you up too much, Mitchie, he's not worth the fuss."

Jesse gasps dramatically as Beca snorts with laughter. "Excuse me, Mr Applebaum, I take offense!"

"It's okay, Benji, I think I can handle him for one night." When he looks at her pointedly, she rolls her eyes. "You're gross."

He chuckles as they're handed menus and he tries not to make it obvious at how he glances at her between each perusal of the dishes. They sit in silence, the rest of the table chattering around them about what to have, and she sighs to herself in frustration.

"This sucks," she says finally, a small furrow between her eyebrows. "I really just want some pizza."

He keeps his eyes on his menu as he speaks. "I did tell Benji – not everyone has a preference to Latvian cuisine."

"It's my fault," she says quietly, leaning a little closer to him so he can hear her. He tries not to consider this a big victory. "We had a game in college of finding the strangest restaurants in town. It became a bit of a competition between the groups. I once suggested this Latvian place I stumbled upon, and his obsession was born."

Jesse put down his menu and turned in his chair towards her. "You know, I'm trying to get a handle on what your deal is," he begins, and he sees her eyebrows rise as she keeps her gaze firmly trained on the starters.

"Oh?"

"You're sarcastic, and you're closed off, which is cool and whatever, but then I hear Benji talking about your music, how great you are at it, how you have this great voice and enthusiasm and I mean seriously, you were in an all girls acapella group. None of it adds up."

She puts down her menu with a heavy exhale and turns to him, chin rested on her folded hands like she's too tired to keep it up herself. "I wasn't a Bella by choice," she says dismissively, but then she glances across the table at a brunette girl – Stacie, he thinks her name is - and a small smile lights up her face. "At first, anyway."

"You joined them twice." Jesse watches her eyes shine in mild amusement.

"You know far too much about me considering I know absolutely nothing about you," she observes.

He tilts his head, pausing for a beat, and then relents. "My full name is Jesse Anthony Swanson, I'm 23, I went to NYU and majored in music theory. I have an older sister and a younger brother, and I moved to LA to pursue my dream of becoming a film composer."

She nods thoughtfully. He wonders why she's trying to hide that smile. "How's that working out for you?"

"I'm interning with some big wig of the film world, thought he doesn't do original scores like I want to." He raises one shoulder in a shrug and she sips at her glass of water. "What about you?"

"I'm a junior producer at this little record label." He looks impressed, and he sees how her eyes sparkle at the thought of her job. "A friend of a friend set one up and recommended me for the position."

"Sounds great." He smiles at her again and her head shakes like she's trying to clear it.

She doesn't know why she's suddenly sharing parts of her life with him, and she needs to nip this in the bud before it gets all personal. "Yeah, well, uh…"

But then the waiter comes to take their order, and when he leaves she turns her attention to Donald on her other side, and though they participate together in conversations as the table reminisce of college, she makes an effort not to engage him properly, to keep her eyes on anyone else, and he knows his chance for the evening is gone. Not that he minds too much. He has a feeling there'll be plenty more opportunities for them.

* * *

The next time is an accident, genuinely, in a strange place a few days later.

"So guess who I heard from last night?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to know," Beca says between breathes.

"Oh no, you do." Amy's eyes watch Beca as her feet pound on the treadmill, her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail, strands sticking to her neck with sweat. She grabs another slice of pizza from her box and holds it up absently in front of Beca, a technique they had developed to push her harder, and Beca increases the speed and takes a bite from the offered treat.

"Fine," she says with her mouth full. "Go ahead, gross me out."

Amy's next words make Beca falter and she almost flies off the high speed treadmill. "Bumper Allen."

"No," she says immediately, shaking her head and brushing away the stray hairs that stick to her sweaty forehead. "You're not going back to that."

"Nothing _happened_," Amy stresses, and Beca glances doubtfully at her friend. She's sitting on a gym ball, a large pizza box in her lap, having done no exercise of any kind. Beca had given up trying to get the blonde to use her gym membership properly. "He just left a message, asked if I was up to anything this week."

"You're not going back to that," Beca repeats, breathing heavily. "He's bad news! He's an asshole!"

"And he's only half decent in bed, I know." Amy shrugs and Beca knows she's going to call him back later and arrange a meeting in some seedy motel. She looks past Beca and licks her lips. "Ooh, look, some man candy."

"Good to see you again too, Amy," a voice calls in amusement, and this time Beca falters enough to knock her off the treadmill. A strong pair of arms catches her before she hits the ground and she squeaks in surprise.

"You know, this is getting weird." Beca looks up into the eyes of Jesse, who is grinning at her widely like he always seems to be doing, and his arms are still around her, supporting her weight. She pushes him away and straightens herself out, tugging at her tight black work out top from where it had ridden up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she barks, a little more forceful that she had intended, still a tad embarrassed at how he caught her so off guard and then saved her from further embarrassment. "Thank you," she tags on awkwardly, gesturing vaguely at him with one hand as she catches her breath. "For, uh… You know."

"I'm at a gym, what else do you think I'm doing here," he says in amusement, eyeing up Amy's position beside the still running treadmill. "Though I see now there's another way to enjoy the gym."

"And you just happen to be at _my _gym?" She's still out of breath, her chest heaving, and he does his best not to look for too long. Somehow she makes simple workout clothes and sweaty skin more than a little bit attractive.

"It's the cheapest gym in the area," he answers with a shrug. Her hands are on her hips and he leans back on his right foot, trying not to smirk too much as she wipes the back of her hand across her forehead.

"Great," she mutters under her breath. "That's perfect."

He hears her and his smirk grows. "I'll definitely be coming back if it means I get to see you all flustered each time."

She narrows her eyes at him and purses her lips. Amy jumps in, her eyes flicking between them in a not-so-subtle way. "You know what, I just remembered, I have to go to a, uh, to return a call so…" She gets up from the gym ball and clutches her pizza box.

"Do not call Bumper back!" she warns as Amy walks away from her, and she glares at her when Amy turns and thrusts her hips suggestively when Jesse turns back to look at Beca.

"See you later, Mitchie!" Amy calls as she rounds a corner, and Beca groans; she really hates that nickname.

"I think it's cute," he comments perceptively. When she looks confused, he adds, "the nickname. It's cute."

Beca rolls her eyes and turns back to her treadmill, powering it down. "It's stupid."

"It shows they obviously really like you."

"It shows they enjoy winding me up."

"That too." Jesse grins at her and she grabs the towel from her bag beside her, slinging the towel around the back of her neck and opening a bottle of water. "You want to go get smoothies?"

"Excuse me?"

"Smoothies? With me? I'll pay. I kinda owe you after I made you fall off your machine."

She squints her eyes at him in speculation, trying to see what his end game is here, but he looks genuine. He wants to apologise, and she knows he's taken a strange shine to her (which is unusual for her, and she doesn't know if she's flattered or annoyed by the attention) but it can't be that bad, right?

Against her better judgement she agrees, on the condition it's nothing more than just a smoothie, and they both head to the changing rooms to get changed (she showers quickly because she's gross, but it has nothing to do with not wanting to continue to look like an idiot in front of him). She finds him ten minutes later waiting for her, and they walk to the smoothie bar across the street together.

"So how's the producing thing going?" he asks politely as the warm autumn air hits them outside.

"Great." She pauses, and to avoid it getting awkward, adds, "How's interning?"

"Bit boring, but I gotta start somewhere." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Your moment will arrive soon enough." She frowns as soon as the words come out, unsure why she sounds so wise and all knowing. She hopes he doesn't think it's patronizing, but he's smiling at her as they cross the street with quite a bit of self-confidence.

"Oh I know. Life will work itself out eventually, I just have to keep working hard."

"You're strange, you know that?"

"Absolutely." He holds the door open for her to enter the bar and they join the queue, Beca making an effort to look around the bright orange themed room rather than see him watching her in interest.

"You're strange too, you know," he adds after a moment's silence, and she sees him bounce on his toes in her periphery.

"I thought I was confusing," she replies, scanning the back lit menu above the service station.

"Strangely confusing," he amends. "You just don't… Make sense."

"That's fine by me."

"I'm serious. Everything I know about you doesn't add up to who you are." He can't stop watching her, seeing how her face twitches with each expression she suppresses, how she seems much more relaxed with him than she had been at dinner the previous weekend, how she's making an obvious effort not to pay him much attention beyond the bare minimum.

"I think I'm going to have banana and strawberry," she muses, trying to change the subject very obviously, and he watches her for a moment more before sighing and turning to the list of choices.

"Mango and peach is my favourite."

* * *

It becomes a thing without her even realising.

He bumps into her at the gym the following weekend, and rather than talk to her, he just starts running on the treadmill next to her, his earphones in blasting a song he doesn't pay attention to because he sees her glance at him in the mirrored walls they're facing, smiling politely as she ups her speed. They go toe to toe for a while, and when he's running faster, she pushes herself harder.

She tries not to think too much about how he's a better motivator than Amy's pizza.

He takes her for smoothies again, and this time they trade orders to try each other's favourites. The conversation flows reasonably well and she's surprised at how much she actually enjoys his company. When she sees him at the gym three days later lifting weights, she approaches him and mocks him for it, trying not to focus on his muscles rippling or recall the way his arms had felt when he caught her. She takes him for smoothies that afternoon, insisting she should pay this time, and they both order her favourite. Beca can't seem to suppress the smile it raises when he tells the woman behind the counter what he wants.

He figures out her workout schedule through carefully disguised questioning and within a month she starts to almost look forward to seeing him there. They race on the bikes and he challenges her on the weights. She persuades him to join yoga with her and he pulls childish faces at her in the middle of poses, some making her laugh enough to fall out of them and get stern glares from the instructor.

It is when they're rowing across an imaginary lake that he finds out about her complete lack of knowledge on movies, when he quotes The Notebook at her and she stares back at him in the mirror blankly.

"I don't like them." She shrugs awkwardly as she pushes herself back on the machine in time with him, a bead of sweat dripping down her neck.

"How can you not like movies?!"

"They're predictable." She glances at him, trying not to laugh at how devastated he looks as he pauses to stare at her in disbelief. "I just can't seem to get to the end."

"You're kidding right?"

"Nope."

"Endings are the best part!"

She glances at him sceptically, still sitting there staring at her, and she can't hold back an amused smile at how forlorn he looks. "Come on slow coach, you're falling behind."

She shouldn't really be surprised when, a week later at the smoothie bar, he pulls two tickets out of his jacket pocket, demanding she go to the cinema with him. She says no, not because she minds spending two hours sitting next to him in silence bored and wanting something else to do (though secretly, very deep down she wouldn't mind it so much), but because she finds it amusing when she refuses and he gets that distressed look on his face and starts pleading.

"Please Beca, it's a matter of life or death. I have to see this movie!"

She's spent five minutes already winding him up, and so she takes her lips off the straw and sighs over dramatically, throwing her hands into the air. "Fine, you've twisted my arm. But you're paying for snacks!"

And suddenly she's in a movie theatre that Friday night and there's some cheesy predictable Christmas movie playing and she just wants to sleep or stab herself in the eyes – anything that means she isn't so badly bored. She munches on her snacks to keep her mildly occupied, switching between salty popcorn and gummy bears. She's just reached the point where she's considering role playing silly situations with the tiny bears when she spots Jesse whispering beside her, his eyes glued to the screen.

"You know the words," she points out in a dangerously low whisper as she leans a little closer.

"No I don't," he whispers back, but in the light of the movie she sees his face twist slightly into a look she's sure is guilt.

"Did you seriously drag me to a movie you've seen enough times to be able to know the words?"

"It's possible I've seen this movie _once_ before," he begins hesitantly, eyes never straying from the screen. She wonders what her chances are of getting away with murdering him in the back of the theatre. Not great, but the jail time seems almost worth it.

"I cannot believe you –"

"Okay fine, but I work in the industry; it's my job to be clued up. And just listen to that score…" He raises a hand to the screen like it's the holy grail and she grumbles under her breath, shifting in her surprisingly uncomfortable seat to face the screen again.

"You're an idiot," she mutters, but he just chuckles quietly, eyes wide in wonder at whatever is happening on the screen.

"If you really don't want to watch, then at least shut your eyes and listen to the music. It's really incredible."

She gives in, and adjusts again so she rests her head onto the back of the seat, closing her eyes and resting her feet up on the empty seat in front of her. She folds her hands into her lap and listens to the music, how it sweeps along cheerfully, lifting the listener's mood and illustrating the story, accompanying rather than overwhelming. She has to admit, the music alone is pretty good, and she would consider it more if she couldn't feel something warm on her cheek.

"Jesse," she breathes, eyes still closed. "Are you stealing my popcorn?"

When she opens her eyes, he's smiling at her sheepishly, and she finds her breath hitch at how close he is to her face, his arm stretched across her to her popcorn. Beca notices the individual golden flecks in his brown eyes, can count the barely noticeable freckles on his nose, can see how one of his bottom teeth is ever so slightly wonky. Her heart is racing, and she's not sure why but suddenly both their faces are perfectly serious, his gaze calculating, soft.

"I ran out," he whispers, finally pulling back with a handful of popcorn. Her eyes flutter for a second while she tries to regain control of herself.

She spends the next week avoiding the gym, trying to figure out what exactly that moment had been in the back row. It had been a feeling she would expect from a 15 year old girl when the senior she's crushing on takes her out to a secluded spot for their first kiss. It certainly wasn't something Beca – a 22 year old who isn't exactly _that _kind of girl – would expect from herself. The moment had been different, thrilling, terrifying, and she spends 8 days convincing herself it was a fluke, a coincidence. Jesse's a friend, nothing more.

He's worried. Of course he is – Beca has basically gone M.I.A. and he doesn't have the faintest idea why. After their trip to the movies, she had been awkward, more reserved than he had grown used to her being, and she had made her excuses to leave quickly. He hasn't heard from her since, and he wonders if she really hates movies that much to hold it against him.

When she walks into the gym two weeks later, he's relieved to see she's alive, and he gets up from his seat at the weight station to approach her. She smiles hesitantly, apologetically, and claims she's been ill with the flu. It's a lie, he can spot the avoidance of the truth a mile off, but he nods and tells her he's glad she's better. When they run on the treadmill, she has her headphones firmly on over her ears, blocking out any chance of fixing the strange tension between them, and he leaves early, skipping their usual trip to the smoothie bar.

Beca knows the sadness in his eyes is her fault, but she doesn't know what else to do.

The awkwardness continues for a few more weeks, their corresponding workouts spent in either strained small talk or uncomfortable silences. He attempts a lone trip to their smoothie bar, but when the friendly barrister asks where he girlfriend is today, he is too depressed to wait for his order to arrive.

And then that evening he realises what she said.

_His girlfriend. _Beca. _His girlfriend._

Sure, Jesse was attracted to her when they first met. She's a beautiful girl, he won't deny it. But his interest in her back then was so different to his interest in her now. Beca is funny, she's sarcastic and guarded and passionate. She's strong and she's untrusting but she's fiercely loyal to those she lets close to her. Sure, she has daddy issues and a whole mountain of other ones, and yes she infuriates him no end a lot of the time. But she's good and she's incredible and she's _Beca._

And as he slouches on his couch, watching The Breakfast Club and failing to avoid thinking about her, he realises he's fallen for her so swiftly even he didn't notice it. And he's in a whole lot of trouble because of it.

* * *

**What did you think? Let me know!**

**Also, a quick response to a guest reviewer - this one is au, so is not the same universe as the others. I will go back to that universe after this threeshot is over :)**


	6. The 3-Part Valentine's (3)

**So I'm really sorry this is late. I don't have much of an excuse, it was a bit difficult to write. It also is not the complete end. I've written this part but not the actual ending to this three part thing - which is now a four part thing - but I will continue to work on it and post it asap. For now, I wanted you guys to have this to keep you going because so many of you asked for it. I hope you enjoy, and haven't found the story-reading difficulty FF seems to be having at the moment too impossible to handle.**

* * *

**THE JESSE-ALMOST-GOES-TO-JAIL VALENTINE'S (PART 3)**

It is four days before Christmas that he knocks on her door.

"Hey," he says lamely when she opens her door and stares at him in surprise.

"Jesse." It's a silly observation, and she wants to kick herself for it. She'd been avoiding him now for four weeks, and she feels bad. No, she feels terrible. Because she's surprised by how much she has missed him, and she is surprised how her heart skips a beat when she finds him on the other side of her door.

"So I think we need to fix this." He pulls a wine bottle out from behind his back and a half smile twitches across his face. "And I'm not taking no for an answer."

She steps aside to let him in, and he waltzes in, looking around at her less than spotless and tidy apartment. He hasn't been before, but he isn't surprised at what he finds. It looks just like he'd imagine it to look, with the tatty couch and the apparently endless stacks of records on large, mismatching bookshelves. A personal mixing station dominates the room, and he is significantly unimpressed at her lack of an actual television in the place.

She eyes the suitcase he wheels behind him in confusion. "You planning on moving in?"

He turns and winks at her. "You asking?" When she just stares at him, unamused, he smirks. "I mean it's a little fast considering I haven't even taken you out on a date yet but if you want to…"

Her expression stays perfectly stoic and he turns his attention to the corner of the room that seems to house her kitchen area. He rifles through drawers, coming up victorious after a few moments with a bottle opener, and when she stays stubbornly in her position by the door, her eyes trailing him in interest, he searches the cupboard for glasses.

"Don't look at me like that; if I'm moving in I need to know where everything is."

He holds the wine glasses in one hand between his fingers and carries the opened bottle over to the couch, settling into the farthest seat from the door and pouring two glasses. She's still watching him, and it's beginning to unnerve him slightly.

"You have a habit of making yourself at home, did you know that?" It's meant as a hidden insult, but she doesn't sound angry. Beca walks across the cold wooden floor towards him and settles into the pillows at the other end of the two seater couch.

He takes a sip of his wine before replying. "I'm supposed to be going home for Christmas." When she glances at him, evidently not following, he nods towards the suitcase left by the kitchen counter. "I'm catching a plane soon, to go see my folks."

"And you stopped off here?" She's surprised and unsure, and she grabs her glass from the coffee table so she has something to do with her hands other than fidget nervously.

"I wanted to end the year on a good note. I wanted no regrets."

"Jesse," she starts, but she stops, because she doesn't actually know what to say or how to react. His brown eyes are making her toes tingle and she pointedly turns her attention to the cracks in her old tan leather couch.

"I don't know what I did, Beca, but I'd like you to tell me so I can fix it. I don't want us to be this awkward… Thing. I miss my reason for going to the gym being something other than having to for the sake of the two year contract I was suckered into. I miss ordering smoothies that aren't take away because I have no one to sit with." _I miss you and everything we used to be_, he wants to add, but he doesn't, because he can already see her shifting uncomfortably in her seat, her back against the arm of the chair, her legs bent up at the knees like a barrier between them.

"You're not the one who should be fixing anything. It's my fault, and I'm sorry, really." She avoids his eyes when she says it, but he knows it's more because of a discomfort at more personal topics than a lack of sincerity. By the way she downs half her glass after in one go, he also knows he's unlikely to get a full explanation of her reasons behind her avoidance of him, but this is a start. He can work with this.

"Thank you," he says, because he's grateful that she put in the effort to apologise rather than just throw him out.

"You know this wine is really awful," she says in amusement, a blatant change of topic he's happy to take because it causes her to smirk at him. He's missed that too, how she smiles, how it lights up her face and magnifies her beauty (he's got it bad, and he's fully aware of it, but somehow the impending pain when she ultimately turns him down seems worth it to get this time with her).

"I'm sorry my tiny internship budget can't afford the fancy schmancy wine you producers are so accustomed to," he quips. She chuckles and his heart pounds.

"Junior producer," she amends automatically, and she rests her head against the backrest of the couch, watching him in interest. Beca swears she has his every feature memorised, knows his appearance well enough from all the time they have spent together since Benji's birthday, but somehow his face is still so… Interesting. Even now, she can learn new things about it, like how he always rubs the left side of his chin when he's nervous and the slight stubble he has there is a little more sparse than the rest.

"Can I hear some of your music?" he asks cautiously, worried for her reaction, but to his delight, she smiles warmly at him, nodding easily. She gets up, depositing her glass onto the table on the way, and heads to her set up, sitting in her desk chair and sliding along the floor a little as she types her password in. Jesse watches from the couch as it's pretty close, seeing how easily her fingers glide over the keys, how quick her movements are in opening up her music programs. It's highly practised, he can tell, and he finds it endearing in a way that doesn't help his situation in the slightest.

An upbeat blend of songs that take him back to his time partying in college then engulfs the apartment. She spins shyly in her chair, and he's surprised at how reserved she seems. Beca seems unusually vulnerable, her eyes intent on his face, judging every reaction, every flicker of emotion. He nods along, smiling to himself. She's good – _really_ good – and his fingers thrum against the arm of couch to the rhythm, an unconscious tick he developed as a child when listening to music that moved him.

"This is great Beca," he calls over the beat, grinning at her, and she smiles back with a breath of relief.

"It's pretty old. I made it for the Bella's, back in college when we needed a track to practise to. I don't get much time anymore to mix but this is probably one of my better ones," she explains, her hands pressed together between her knees.

"There's so many layers, really this is just…" He tilts his head, thinking, partly trying to not make an Inception reference he knows she won't understand. "Do you miss mixing?"

She shrugs. "Not as much as I thought I would. I make music now – well, I help to. That's the dream. Mixing is just taking someone's creation and manipulating it, putting your own spin on it. Producing music is something else. It's your stamp on the world, your creation. Mixing was a hobby that got me through a time I had to put my dream on pause. Now I don't need it that much. I miss it a little, I guess, but I can live without it."

Beca is trying to look nonchalant, but really she's a little stunned at herself. She had never really been that open about her music choices before. Most people just presumed that she didn't have time to mix anymore, and she never corrected them because what was the point? It wasn't a big deal. It was a personal choice, and nobody else's business. Apart, it seems, from Jesse, who is watching her with a look in his eyes that can only be labelled as admiration.

"You never fail to surprise me, you know that?" he says quietly. Her heart beat flutters and she sways round her chair, side to side, nervously trying to ignore the new edge to his gaze.

A siren blares close by the window, and Beca jumps at the sudden noise. Jesse chuckles at her before getting up and walking to the window beside her, leaning out of the open shutter to look down at the street below. He watches a police car zoom by, weaving in and out of traffic, the noise harsh to his ears. The windowsill has just enough room for two people to lean on and Beca joins him, curious as to what has captured his attention.

An ambulance speeds down the busy road best it can, other cars making the effort to move out of the way, and the pair stand and watch for a minute without talking. Beca can feel his body heat on her arm, can see his profile in her periphery. Jesse hears her soft breathing, how her finger thrums a quick beat on the soft wood of the ledge as she people watches.

"When I was a kid, my favourite thing in the world to do was climb trees." It was quiet, like he almost didn't even know he was speaking aloud. "I liked the wind against my face and that moment when you almost fall but you catch yourself." She turns to him, watching him mumble softly as he looks down at the street below. "I liked how the world was a little less scary, up there, in the branches. I loved how life continued on below me, so busy and complicated and happy."

"Those are some big thoughts for a little kid," she comments in amusement, trying not to get caught up in the way his smile moves his jaw or how his ear goes a little red in embarrassment at his voiced musings.

"I guess, but it's true. And being up here… It's like we could just stop existing, right now, and our disappearances would have no affect at all. Us not being here would cause barely the tiniest ripple in how life continued." He finally looks over at her with such a serious expression, and she swallows hard around the lump in her throat.

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it, if anyone would even notice if you went missing, if you just stopped existing." She doesn't know why she says it – or whispers it, to be more accurate – but it's out there, her words hanging heavily between them. Jesse watches how her eyes seem to fill with concern, and he knows there's very few ways to play this. Beca is emotional, she is guarded, and so he does what he knows she needs him to do; he brushes it off.

"It's kinda comforting though, I guess. Seeing that life goes on no matter what."

Beca looks at him like she's never seen him before, because he is truly astounding. How is it possible for a guy like this to exist? It makes no sense to her, that this impossible man is leaning out of her apartment window, his elbow pressed against her arm. "Why do you make everything seem so… so… special?"

He smiles softly as he glances back at her. "Because it is."_  
_

But before she can reply, an alarm echoes around the room and Jesse swears under his breath, the sound breaking the moment. He straightens up and walks over to his suitcase, feeling her eyes on his back as he goes, and he grabs his phone from one of the pockets. The ringing stops and he looks at her guiltily. Their time is up, and even though he hasn't seen his parents for almost half a year, he wishes he could cancel and just stay here, in her apartment with Beca, forever.

"You have to go?" she asks, disappointed, her arms crossed over her chest from the sudden chill she puts down to the open window beside her.

"I have to catch my plane." He points to the door hesitantly. "I'd stay but –"

"No, no of course not, you have to get home." She doesn't add that she wants him to stay anyway.

His eyes light up. "I almost forgot! I got you something."

"You didn't have to –" But he's already pulling a box out of his suitcase pocket, and he crosses the distance between them in large strides. He presses the gift into her hands and watches expectantly as she hesitates but begins to pull at the ribbon tied around the red box.

Inside, she finds a plastic smoothie cup, complete with straw, filled with her favourite order from their smoothie bar, ice packs surrounding it to keep it cold.

"You're such a weirdo," she laughs as she pulls it out, and she's overwhelmingly touched by the simple gesture. She looks up at him, grinning as he bites his lip and places a hand on her hip.

"Happy Christmas, Beca," he murmurs, and when he pulls her to him she wonders (read hopes) if he might kiss her, but instead he hugs her, and she wraps her free arm around his shoulder, both of them surprised at how right it feels.

"And a Happy New Year." She pulls back first and he smiles at her, happy they're okay again now, before stepping away quickly and going back to his suitcase. He tries to clear his head, to not focus on how his skin tingles from her touch, how her breath on his neck had made his eyes close, how she is watching him strangely as he grabs onto the raised handle of his suitcase. He hopes the time away will help him get over this crush of his.

She puts the gift down on the coffee table as she walks towards the door, tugging at the hem of her jumper. "Have a safe flight." He nods and she clears her throat. "Maybe text me when you land?"

"Sure thing." He opens her front door and she holds onto the edge, a half smile lifting her cheek. "Have a good Christmas."

"You too." He steps out of the doorway and turns back for just a moment.

"I'll see next year," he jokes, and she rolls her eyes, leaning her temple against the door.

"I'm sure you will, Tarzan."

And he turns away from her, the biggest grin on his face. When he hears her apartment door close behind him, he pulls out his phone, types out a two worded message and sends it. He takes a deep breath before walking away, heading down to the lobby to catch a cab to the airport.

Beca leans her back against the door, her breathing jagged, and tries to catch herself… Her phone buzzes, and when she pulls it out, tears well in her eyes at the tiny but most beautifully significant message she's ever received.

_I'd notice._

* * *

**I know that the "who will miss me when I'm gone thing" is from a movie, I'm just having real issues remembering which one - if you know, please tell me so I can credit it in the next chapter! Also, the "how do you make things seem so special" thing is also from a movie called This Property Is Condemned. I saw this quote and it seemed too perfect to ignore.**

**I haven't read over this chapter for any mistakes so if there are any, I'm really sorry, I just don't have the time to now and I really wanted you guys to have this. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!**


	7. The 3-Part Valentine's (4)

**So I finished the final chapter of this three-turned-four-parter! I'm quite sad to see it go. I enjoyed writing this AU more than I thought I would. Once again I'd like to give a big shoutout to BittyAB18 who came up with idea. I've really loved writing it and I'm glad you've liked it! I hope I did it justice.**

**Going to try and post a new drabble after I've slept and actually written it - need to catch up on my missed days! Please let me know what you think of this ending and if I might just do a revisit to this little universe if I get enough people who want it. I don't feel quite ready to let them go yet.**

* * *

**THE JESSE-ALMOST-GOES-TO-JAIL VALENTINE'S (PART 4)**

"Tell me you've hit that."

A month later, and the Barden gang are all at a bar celebrating Jesse's birthday. Things have been going well for him and Beca, and they have grown closer than either of them expected, back to their routine of gym and smoothies. But for the past four weekends he had turned up at her door with movies, which she had relented to watching pretty quickly after a compromise of two embarrassing college stories for every movie (stories he had in abundance, unfortunately for him). Last weekend he had even spent the night after they fell asleep on the couch, his head in her lap and her feet tucked under his arm. Neither of them talked about the new dynamic of their friendship, but every Monday morning Jesse walked into work with a giant grin plastered across his face.

"Don't talk about Beca like that." Benji frowns protectively over his beer and Jesse pays no notice, his attention a little too divided between watching Beca struggle to turn down Chloe's insistent attempts at getting her to do karaoke with the rest of the Bella's and his friends. The guys stand crowded around the pool table, and his eyes flick to Kolio who is still staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry what was the question?" he asks, knowing he's going to get hell for it.

"Oh wow. My man, you got it bad." Donald slaps him sympathetically on the shoulder and Jesse grimaces.

"What are you turdburgers talking about?" Amy approaches, apparently bored with the girly antics going on by the stage, and Kolio jumps at the chance to get her opinion on the matter, much to Jesse's annoyance.

"About how Jesse is too chicken to make a move on Beca."

Jesse glares at the man he has never had many good things to say about but keeps quiet, swallowing the last of his beer.

"Oh yeah, she definitely has a toner for you."

The boys groan at the phrase and Jesse frowns. "What's a toner?"

"This stupid thing Aubrey went on about," Donald explains in exasperation. "Apparently it's a musical boner."

Jesse's eyes widen. "She told you that?" he asks Amy.

"No but it's obvious. I don't know why you two haven't just gotten down and done it yet, you guys are basically in a relationship anyway." Amy watches him start in surprise and cuts him off when he opens his mouth to protest. "Come on, you guys watch movies together, you go to the gym together, you even went grocery shopping together the other day." Amy looks at him pointedly. "You're an old married couple without the sex."

"Wait, no, married people aren't supposed to have sex so… You two really _are _an old married couple." Unicycle offers and Jesse wonders how they all seem to know so much about his… Thing with Beca, whatever it actually is. He glances at Benji, who is avoiding his gaze guiltily. Next time he knew who not to confide in, that's for sure.

"You've been friendzoned," Donald says in dismay. "You need to get out of it!"

"I have not been friendzoned, okay. Beca's a friend, we get on well, so what?" Jesse tries to defend, but Amy's ready for it.

"Beca doesn't just let anyone in, you know. She's a tough cookie to crack – hell, it took us Bella's two years to get her to even admit we're all her friends. She's guarded to the whole world apart from you, apparently." Amy's eyes soften in a rare show of genuine concern for her friend. "No one has ever gotten so far with her in such a short amount of time. You've known her, what, six months? And look where you are with her already. If you guys aren't the definition of soul mates I don't know what is."

"It's true," Benji cuts in, "If you guys never become an actual couple then there's no hope for the rest of us."

Jesse opens his mouth to say something, anything that can get him out of this strange heart to heart over the girl who's been driving him crazy since he saw her in that tight black dress (of which she is wearing a similar number tonight, and when he glances up to see her walking awkwardly away from a pouting Chloe he has to make a conscious effort to keep breathing).

"I don't know how, but you gotta get Beca to –" Jesse nudges Amy desperately as Beca approaches them, and the brunette doesn't fail to notice her name being mentioned or that the gathering of guys are watching her in fake innocence.

"Get Beca to what?" she questions suspiciously, stepping in the gap between Amy and Jesse that's so small her knee brushes his calf. There's a beat of silence around the group that's too long to be properly played down, but Benji steps in to try and save the day either way.

"Do karaoke! With Jesse!" He forces a grin and Beca glares at him.

"Dude, no, not going to happen."

"What, you scared I'm better than you?" Jesse doesn't know why he's going along with this, but he needs an excuse to get out of this conversation and even if that exit is exactly what his friends want from him, it's still an out he needs.

She scoffs, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. "Oh really, you want to challenge the once captain of an acapella girl group?"

"I've heard you guys were alright, sure." He shrugs impassively, the glint in his eyes telling Beca that he really is challenging her, trying to wind her up. "But I'm not worried."

She smirks and he knows he has her. "You're pretty confident for a guy who's about to lose."

"Bring it, Mitchie."

Her blue eyes flash at the use of the nickname and without another word she grabs his hand and drags him towards the stage, aware that she's played into his intent but ready to show him up all the same. A chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles follow them from the group they've left and Beca ignores Amy's cat call that is highly inappropriate. Jesse trails two steps behind her with a relieved expression at being away from the suffocation of that conversation. Though the way her hand feels in his, her fingers wrapped tightly around the space between his thumb and finger, does little to calm his nerves.

He turns around and is surprised to see that his friends have followed them, the Treble's and Bella's now crowded around the stage as Stacie finishes her performance and Beca flicks through the song book. Jesse stands awkwardly at her side. There's no appropriate place to look – if he looks up there's his friends making far too many suggestive moves in his direction, and if he looks down there she is, her finger running down the page in a move that he impossibly manages to find sexy. His heart beat is so loud it's a wonder she can't hear it over Stacie's finishing note.

"You going to help or what?" she asks, her voice a little too harsh, and he startles a little at it.

"Uh, sure. What do you want to sing?"

"I don't know." She sighs, frustrated. Truthfully, she's trying to find a possible duet that doesn't involve talking about love or finding love or being in love or anything ridiculously mushy that will just encourage her friend's merciless teasing (she has already spent an hour of the night with her friendship with Jesse under the microscope, the girls examining every aspect. She doesn't need any more of that). But there's nothing, and it annoys her more than she cares to admit in the same way she doesn't want to think about the reasons behind it.

"There's got to be plenty of songs I can kick your ass to," he says in amusement, pushing her out of the way with his hip so he can get a better look at the list. He scans down the pages, ignoring the calls for them to "hurry up already", and his feelings on the songs mirror hers. "Maybe we can ask everyone else – "

"No," Beca interrupts too quickly. Jesse glances at her surprise and she rushes to explain, to cover for herself. "I just mean, you know, they'll pick something… Inappropriate."

"Do you have a better idea?" he raises an eyebrow and she pressed her lips together in thought.

"We could each do one alone?" she suggests weakly. "You pick my song, I pick yours. Whoever gets the biggest applause wins."

He nods, because it's better than an awkward duet that puts them both in an uncomfortable position. "Sounds good to me. All songs within reason, of course. I don't want to be belting out Shania Twain or something."

"Agreed, on the terms that if you suggest Cyndi Lauper I will beat you with Stacie's heels."

"Deal."

"You want to go first?"

"Nope, ladies first, I insist."

"Don't be that guy, we all know you're dying to up there."

And that is how Eye Of The Tiger and Spice Up Your Life became the weirdest love songs in the world. Because they both made the very conscious effort to make their song choices impossible to link back to their rumoured (read very real) feelings for each other, and when they sang they tried to look annoyed at it all, but really, they were still singing to each other. In their attempts to avoid such strange feelings, they had in effect made them stronger, because Jesse's voice filled her ears and her mind deliciously, and Beca's dance moves (after trying really hard to not get caught up in the song) made Jesse choke on his drink as she swayed her hips to the beat.

"That definitely wasn't a fair competition," he says after the Bella's have celebrated over Beca's win and have backed away a little (unsubtly) to give them some space. Beca smirks at him, though her knees are a little shaky at the sound of his voice. Somehow, knowing he can sing the way he does has made her body suddenly unable to function in his presence.

"Someone's a sore loser." She bites her lip against her smile as his eyes twinkle in the dim lighting.

"You totally used that dress and your hips to your full advantage," he laughs but her smile falls and his laughter dies out. His comment has crossed the strange friendship line they seem to have put in place, it implies something _more_, and he is surprised at how she doesn't have a fast rebuttal against him, a move that would normally brush such a moment under the carpet for them both to pretend never happened.

"Beca…" He is suddenly aware of the acutely small space between them. She can feel her heart beat in her fingers.

"We uh…" She blinks hard. "It's late, and I have to work tomorrow…"

She steps away but he steps forward and hears her breathing hitch. "Want me to walk you home?"

He expects her to turn him down, because his question is loaded and she knows it, but she nods, unable to form words. Her apartment is only five minutes away and he knows that any other time she'd insist she was perfectly capable of walking home alone. He wonders what has made her so quick to accept. He hopes it's the same thing that is making his heart stutter as she just stares up at him.

They both grab their jackets and say goodbye to their friends, Jesse wincing and Beca glaring as they smirk at them leaving together, and they walk out of the bar in an awkward silence. The fresh air against her face is a welcome distraction as they turn to walk towards her apartment.

"You're good," she says, trying to fill the quiet between them. "Singing, I mean, you're good."

"You're better." The silence is back and he tries to think of something to say. But before he can, she turns towards him, her gaze focussed on his face rather than his eyes.

"Jesse, have you ever done something you know you shouldn't? Something you know you'll regret later but you do it anyway?"

"I don't believe in having regrets," he answers automatically, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"What do you believe in?" She links her hand into the crook of his arm before she can think twice about it and though he jumps a little in surprise at the move, he doesn't comment on it.

"Consequences, a bunch of random events, destiny." He shrugs a shoulder and she links her fingers together over his arm, walking so close that her thigh brushes his. She shouldn't be doing this, she knows it's wrong, but she can't stop herself.

"Destiny? Why?"

"I think there are people in life we are just supposed to meet. There are certain events that have to happen. There are things that are key to our otherwise random lives that make them worth it."

"Like meeting Benji," she says, trying to follow his logic. "You were going to go to Barden, but you didn't, and then four years later you moved in with Benji which led you to be friends with the same people you probably would have been friends with there."

"Exactly." He does not add the overwhelming thought of _it led me to you._ It is unspoken between them, hanging in the air. Her grip tightens on him when a cool breeze brushes past them and he pulls his arm out of her grip, wrapping it around her shoulders. She tenses for a second before accepting the new heat it brings, her own arm around his back and her fingers on his waist. It's too close, too far past that friendship line, but neither of them care all that much in the moment, content to just take advantage of the strange lull in their rules for as long as it lasts.

They reach her apartment building and she tightens her grip on him ever so slightly when he hesitates, not sure if she wants him to follow her up. They walk up the stairs in a silence that pounds in his ears, and Beca reluctantly lets him go to find her keys.

"So tonight was fun." She instantly cringes at her choice of words that make them sound like they've just been on a first date, and when he smirks at it she wants to kick herself.

"It was definitely something."

She fidgets with her keys, unsure what to do, and Jesse stuffs his hands in his jean pockets, nerves getting the better of him. But then she looks up at him through her eyelashes and he suddenly wonders if maybe this is it. Maybe this is their moment.

"You know, Will Smith preaches that a girl who plays with her keys at her door is a girl waiting to be kissed." It's bold, and it's probably not something he'd say without alcohol in his system, and she won't understand the movie reference, but he has been falling for this girl for six months, and he's tired of waiting. Jesse needs to know where he stands.

So when she stops playing with her keys, he thinks maybe he's pushed too far, right up until the moment she grabs the opening of his jacket and pulls him to her so quickly that he stumbles slightly, his hands shooting out to catch her hips and stop her falling. They're so close that their breath mixes and Beca knows in that moment she won't regret this. She _wants _this; she wants Jesse.

She waits for him to make the next move, determination evident in her gaze as she gets a little lost in his dark eyes, and his breathing hitches. "We don't – Beca this doesn't –"

"Oh shut up and kiss me already."

Without a second thought he leans down, his lips hesitant and lingering. It's gentle, a mere pressing of his lips against hers, yet somehow it takes her breath away and her grip on his jacket is so tight her knuckles turn white. He pulls back, marvelling at how she follows him, her eyes still closed, and a hand raises to softly cup her jaw as he kisses her again, more confident this time, a sureness in his movements as she smiles into it.

Gently, she pulls back, her eyes fluttering as they open. He's grinning breathlessly at her and she bites her lip shyly, ducking her head a little before looking back up at him and smiling. "Happy birthday, Jesse."

When she steps out of his grip he instantly misses her, and she chuckles at how he steps towards her with a childish pout. She puts her keys in the lock and turns her head to look back at him, her teeth pressed into her bottom lip again.

"I hope you got everything you wanted," she says with a cheeky grin, before turning the key and stepping into her apartment. "Goodnight, Tarzan."

And this time, he responds before she closes the door, because he has just gotten the only thing he's really wanted since Donald's stupid party ; the promise of something exciting with the girl with the ear spike. "Goodnight Jane."

* * *

The next time she sees him is the following morning when she opens her front door in a hurry and he's standing there, his fist raised to knock, a stunned expression on his face that she would tease him for any other day than the morning after she had basically serenaded him and demanded he kiss her. Beca's limbs are heavy with the after effects of alcohol so she drops her bag in surprise at the man who dominates her doorway and is smiling at her sheepishly.

"Hey," he says slowly, not really sure how to start now he's here in front of her.

"Jesus Christ of course you're here right now," she mutters, running a hand over her face tiredly. She doesn't need this now. She's late for work already and this conversation they evidently need to have will not in any way work at fitting into the twenty minutes until she is expected to be at her job which is half hour away. "Jesse, I'm sorry, I really can't talk right now," she says louder, and her eyes are apologetic. He nods mutely, glancing around at anything but her awkwardly.

"Okay, well uh, I just wanted to apologise. For last night."

She starts a little in surprise because what did he have to be sorry for? "Um, okay."

"I shouldn't have kissed you, that was wrong, and I don't want it to ruin our friendship." She's hurt, of course she is, but she lets him continue; work can wait for now. "Let's chalk it up to, to alcohol poisoning or the after effects of karaoke or something."

He's giving her out. He's letting her take this opportunity to turn back on her actions from the night before and revert back to their factory settings of 'just friends' before it gets too awkward and complicated between them. He would rather her take this than lose her all together. Jesse wants her in his life, and if that means as being the girl he never managed to quite get, then he'd be okay living with that. Or he'd really try to be, at the very least.

She is frozen to the spot, her mind blank, because she doesn't understand what's happening right now. She leans further into her grip on her door handle, trying to shake herself out of her daze in order to form a sentence, a word, any noise at all.

All she can seem to think about is that she's late to work, so she nods. "Yeah… Totally."

Not yeah. Not totally. Not at all. She's so not okay with this in any way and yet her mouth is speaking for her, betraying her, protecting her. "It was stupid, I was drunk, you were drunk, and our friends were egging us on and we just got… Caught up in the moment." She wonders if he can hear the disbelief in her voice, the wish that she could stop talking.

"Yeah," he echoes, looking down at his shoes.

"I'm sorry Jesse, I – I'm late for work." She grabs her bag off the floor and keeps her gaze trained on the wall behind him. "I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

And she intends to, really she does. She wants to correct it, to let him know that she didn't mean her words, but every time they're together that week she chickens out because there's a hundred conflicting thoughts racing around her head, telling her differently, pulling her in different directions. She wants this to be easy. She wants to be stop his treadmill and pounce on him, to knock the smoothie out of his hand and kiss him hard, to lean over the gear stick between him and climb into his lap when she drives him to the dentist.

And she almost does every time, but she stops herself just before and then the moment is gone, lost as much as her mind is over the fact she's fallen for her best friend who seems to have given up on the idea of them being anything more.

So she thinks nothing of it when they're lying on the cheap mats in the gym nine days after the kiss, both sweaty and out of breath (for the wrong reasons, she notes dismally) and resting their heart rates. She's rolling her eyes at some stupid comment of his, and then a silence falls between them as she folds her hands over each other on her stomach.

"So it's Valentine's Day in two days," he observes out of desperation of anything else to say.

"Yeah." She does her best to hide her dismay.

"You got plans?"

"Nope." A pause. "You?"

"No, no, too busy." Another pause. "Didn't have anyone to ask, either."

"Oh." She keeps her gaze trained to the ceiling, her voice giving nothing away.

"Do you like Valentine's Day?" he rolls over onto his side, leaning on his elbow to watch her pointedly avoid looking at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean that, you know, you seem like the kinda girl to disagree with it." Her eyes narrow at the ceiling and he wonders if they'll ever get back to how they were. "You know, the type that think it's stupid and swear against it and think it's nothing more than big companies trying to bleed consumers dry –"

"I've never celebrated it, if that's what you're asking. I've not been someone's Valentine before." She squeezes her eyes shut. She has no idea why she just admitted that.

He tilts his head in shocked confusion. "No one has ever asked you?"

"Nope."

"No one has ever asked _you _to be their Valentine?"

"I've already answered that."

"But that's… That's insane, how has no one ever asked you?" he asks, perplexed, because how has Beca Mitchell, the most beautiful girl on the planet, gone 22 years of her life without being asked?

She sighs, pressing her fingers into her closed eyes as a headache forms. "I don't know Jesse. It's no big deal, I don't really care all that much." She opens her eyes for a moment to see him staring at her strangely and she shakes her head before he can even open his mouth. "Oh no you don't Swanson. You are not asking me to be your Valentine. I will not accept your pity invite."

"What if it's not a pity invite?" he challenges, and she closes her eyes again with a heavy exhale of breath.

"It is a pity invite because neither of us have dates and you're the type to find being alone on a certain day of the year very depressing."

He pauses, because she's right but he doesn't want to admit it, and he takes the moment to analyse how she looks tired, like she hasn't been sleeping. She's not wearing any make up today, which is odd because he's never seen her without, and her clothes are slightly crumpled. "Fine. We can be alone then. Maybe we could be alone together."

She visibly balks at the idea because the thought of spending Valentine's with Jesse but not really _with _Jesse makes her heart hurt a little. "I'll probably just use the evening to catch up on work. I'm a bit behind in a project, I could do with the time to just sit down and focus hard on it."

Disappointed, he rolls back onto his back, looking up at a small crack in the ceiling blocks. "Sure thing." He feels her thrum a beat into the mat nervously, a habit he's noticed seems to occur when he's around, and he sighs forlornly. "Wanna go get smoothies?"

She finally turns her head towards him, smiling as he glances at her out of his periphery. "Sure thing."

* * *

Two days and six hours later, Beca is awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of her front door opening.

She's not stupid. She's lived in LA for well over a year now and she knows that realistically, she's due her turn in the heavy crime rates. Robbery is probably the easiest one to deal with. It could be worse, she reasons as she lies motionless in bed, her eyes wide open. She could have been murdered or mugged or attacked or something; This seems like a relatively easy crime to deal with.

The floorboards squeak under quiet footing and she reaches out slowly towards her bedside table for her phone. Fear makes her heart stutter and she holds it under the duvet so the light won't alert whoever is in her apartment. She texts Amy, the only person she knows will still be up at this hour, asking her to call the police, and almost immediately her phone vibrates with a response.

_Calling now. Don't be stupid._

Spurred on by the knowledge that the police will be here soon, she eases herself silently out of bed. The perks of living here so long means she knows which floorboards will keep quiet under her weight, so she treads silently across the room to the door, looking out of the gap cautiously.

A guy, kneeling by couch over a bag, pulling something out of it. It's too dark to see much else, but suddenly Beca panics she may have been too quick to presume this wasn't a murderer.

She eases the door open slowly, the man too wrapped up in the contents of his bag to notice, and she slips out of the doorway, pressing herself against the wall. She doesn't even dare breathe as she leans forward, inching so slowly towards the kitchen counter only a few feet away. She thanks her lucky stars that her apartment is small.

Her hand comes in contact with something and she pulls it to her to find it's a pan. She swallows nervously, terror tight in her chest, and she creeps along the edge of the apartment, listening to him swear under his breath as he struggles to find something in his bag. She lifts the pan above her head, ready. The man seems to find what he wants as she manages to get behind him, and he moves to stand up.

It's now or never.

She swings her arm down hard and frying pan meets bone as the intruder yelps, "Ow! Did you just hit me with a frying pan? Come on, Rapunzel!"

She freezes, eyes wide, frying pan still raised about her head, ready for her second hit. "_Jesse_?!"

He's cowering from her on the floor, hands over his head protectively, his voice high in panic. "Yes, Jesse! Jeez, woman, you got a hell of a swing there!"

"What the hell are you doing breaking into my apartment?!" she half-squeals, her arms dropping heavily to her sides. He glances up at her gingerly before realising she has lowered her weapon and he straightens up, coughing to clear his throat and jutting out his chest like his voice didn't just rise two octaves at getting hit by a frying pan.

"I was _trying_ to surprise you but –"

"Well you damn well managed that didn't you?!" she fumes. Her heart is still beating erratically in her chest and she doesn't understand what the stupid man was thinking he was doing by breaking into her apartment in the middle of the night.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says earnestly, wrapping a hand around the one holding the frying pan in a vice grip. "I realise now my plan may have been a little flawed" – she scoffs and he grimaces – "but I swear I had the best of intentions."

"You can't just break into people's apartments and claim you had good intentions." She raises her eyebrows at him, trying to ignore the heat of his hand on hers. "Why are you even here, Jesse?"

He takes a moment to ready himself before looking her right in the eye in a way that's so intense she forgets how to breathe. "I don't want to pretend the kiss never happened. I don't want to ignore that because it wasn't wrong or just because we were drunk. Kissing you was the most amazing thing – It was so _right. _I told you that night that I don't believe in having regrets, but my biggest one will always be giving you that out the next morning when all I wanted to do was kiss you again."

She swears her limbs turn to jelly at the way he just stares at her, and she loses the ability to use her voicebox so instead, she whispers, "I thought you didn't want to ruin our friendship."

He smiles lopsidedly. "Beca, there is nothing in the world I'd rather do than ruin our friendship."

"Why does the thought of that terrify me more than when I thought you were about to murder me?" she muses out loud, and he chuckles lightly at her dazed expression.

A hammering on the door. "LAPD!"

She pales and the smile falls right off his face.

"Everything okay in there?"

"You called the police?!" he whispers in disbelief.

"Someone was breaking into my home, what else was I going to do," she hisses back. "It's not like I knew _you_ were the crazy person breaking in at 2am!"

"I can't believe you called the cops!"

"Well I'll know for the next time I think I'm being robbed to check it isn't you!"

The door suddenly slams down off its hinges and Beca shrieks, and there's a blur of movement as one officer grabs her and the other tackles a stunned Jesse to the ground, the frying pan clattering loudly to the ground. She can't follow what is happening properly, because she's exhausted and she's been terrified beyond her wits twice in the space of about ten minutes and all she really knows is two things.

One is that there's the click of handcuffs as Jesse protests his innocence.

And the second is that she bursts into tears, her emotions shot, her mind foggy, and her body heavy.

"Stop! Please! I wasn't being robbed!" she shouts through her tears, her eyes connecting with Jesse's as he watches her in panic as she cries from behind the second officer. The man is being arrested and he's far too concerned with her crying; why does this not surprise her?

"Ma'am, it's okay, you can relax now –"

"No, really, I know him," she tries, but she can see it's not working. And despite knowing he will hold this against her, she is far more worried about the silver bracelets around his wrists that the officer is yanking on to get Jesse off the ground.

"He's my boyfriend; he was trying to surprise me for Valentine's Day because he's that _stupid _and ridiculous –"

The officer in front of her glances between them uneasily as Jesse nods eagerly. "That's right! I am! I really am that stupid to actually think breaking into her apartment could be romantic!"

"Jesse, you're not helping," she hisses at him, "Please officer," she begs, "Let him go, he's not broken any laws. He's just an idiot."

"Your insults really aren't helping either you know," he mutters and she shoots him a look that makes him shut up.

"I'm sorry we've wasted your time," she apologises as the officer behind Jesse begins to unlock the cuffs around his wrist.

"It's okay miss, we're just glad you're safe," he says politely. Jesse rubs his wrist as he's freed and shoots her a grateful smile. The officer looks at Jesse in annoyance. "You know, breaking and entering is a serious crime, sir. You'd have a mind to not do it again. Robbery is not very romantic."

He nods sincerely, his expression fighting to not look amused. "Yes, of course officer. Sorry officer."

One hour and a fixed door later, and Jesse and Beca sit tiredly on the couch, leaning heavily back into the backrest. It's nearing half 3 in the morning, and she knows there is still so much to discuss before she can get the sleep she so dearly craves. She wonders if Jesse will notice if she naps while he speaks.

"You said I was your boyfriend," he mumbles sleepily.

"I was saving you from going to jail."

"You didn't have to say I was your boyfriend."

She groans. "I should have just let them take you."

"You could've, but you didn't." He rolls towards her and they lie in a similar way to how they had in the gym two days ago, her eyes closed and his mapping out the contours of her face.

"Jesse can we talk about this in the morning?" she pleads. "I'm too tired right now."

"No, not yet." He brushes the back of his finger against her cheek and her breathing stutters. He smiles at it and she catches it when she opens her eyes and turns to face him, caught a little off guard at how close he is.

"Why not?" she murmurs.

"I have something to do first."

"Is it going to take long?"

"Not really." He lowers his hand from her face to lace her fingers with his. She can't look away from his eyes and she finds she doesn't want to. She's perfectly happy to spend the moment lost in them.

"Fine, go on then."

He smiles in that way that makes her heart skip a beat. "Beca, will you be my Valentine?"

She swears she's floating at how amazing it feels for him to be asking, and she grins despite herself. "You broke into my apartment to ask me that?"

"Yeah, well, I planned on it being far more romantic, with candles and stuff, but you might call the fire brigade if I light a match."

"For all that effort I'd be expecting a marriage proposal or something." She watches his grin falter for a second but then he leans closer, his breath warm on her cheek.

"Baby steps, Beca. Baby steps."

Lips hard against hers, he's suddenly kissing her, a passion behind them that wasn't there on his birthday that makes her melt into him, one hand in his hand and the other hooked over his shoulder. He presses her down in the seat, lowering her slightly so he's lying on top of her, his mouth never leaving hers. Beca hooks a leg over his waist and he pulls back to look down at her. He's amazed that he's actually here, holding her to him and kissing her. It's like a dream come true and he grins widely at her as she breathes heavily.

"So is that a yes then?"

She sighs against his mouth as he kisses her lightly. "If I say yes, will you finally let me sleep?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

He's ecstatic and he presses kisses all over her face in celebration. She laughs and bats him away but leans up to kiss him sweetly, smiling into his lips. "You're such a weirdo."

"It's my speciality." He presses his forehead to hers. He doesn't think he'll ever get over how good this feels, having Beca as his, finally. It makes him want to shout from the rooftops that he's the luckiest man in all the world.

"Oh God," she groans, closing her eyes. "The girls are going to have a field day with this."

He snorts. "You're telling me. The guys will never let me live this down."

She looks up at him hopefully. "We could just, you know, not tell them. Run away. Save ourselves the hassle."

He chuckles and kisses her nose. "I think we're far too tired to making decisions like that."

He pats him on the chest and he reluctantly pushes himself off her, sitting at the other end of the couch as she straightens up. Beca holds a hand out to him and he takes it, letting her drag him away.

"Come on, Valentine," she says, yawning in the middle as she walks towards her bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

"Why do I get the feeling that doesn't mean what I hope it does?" he jokes and she glances over shoulder to roll her eyes, yanking him over the threshold when he hesitates and collapsing onto her mattress, pulling him down next to her and using her grip on his hand to pull his arm over her so he can hold her. Her eyes are already closed when she eventually comes up with a retort.

"Maybe in the morning, if you're lucky."


	8. The Oopsy Daisy Valentine's

**You guys are super lucky that I have managed to post this. Our internet is down so it's all a giant struggle at the moment, but I can't not update my Valentine's story on Valentine's day! Happy V Day all! Hope you haven't all thrown up from the hideously cutesy stuff going on today. Just remember; all the chocolate is discounted tomorrow!**

**IMPORTANT! I read through the last 3 part turned 4 part story and I realised something hideous! I left an entire scene out of part 2, which I have now added, and I am so sorry to you all because it's actually quite important and I don't know how I didn't notice it before. Again, I'm so sorry, it's there if you want to read it. Gah sorry!**

* * *

**THE OOPSY DAISY VALENTINE'S**

It isn't really supposed to have gone this way.

The way Jesse planned it out, it should have gone perfectly, smoothly. He had prepared for everything; known every step, every moment, every gesture. His plan had been flawless, meticulously arranged over months and months to ensure it would be perfect.

It's their last Valentine's at Barden, and he wants it to be unforgettable.

So why is he on the wrong side of her door pleading to be let back inside?

The night had started out great. He had waited for her outside her class, and held her hand as they walked leisurely across campus to her room. They discussed her day and she'd told him about her passing grade in a recent assignment. It was comfortable, their usual routine, and she is at ease enough with the PDA now to have walked close to him so that their arms were pressed together, and sometimes, when she was in a really good mood, she would wrap her other hand around his elbow. Today had been one of those days. She'd even let him kiss her in congratulations over her grade.

"I'm proud of you Bec," he'd mumbled against her lips. "It only took you three and a half years to start taking college work seriously."

She'd slapped him playfully, pulling away from the kiss but keeping her grip on his hand, and he couldn't help but think about how perfect his life was; he was captain of the Treble's, who were also a great group of friends that he appreciated immensely, he was doing great in his studies, and of course he had Beca who was really the only thing he ever needed, and he had his job at the station to tide him over with enough money. Life at Barden was great, and when he glanced over to Beca walking peacefully at his side, humming quietly to herself as her hair shone in the sunlight, he knew it was all because of her.

Arriving back at her dorm, she was mildly unimpressed (or so she said) about the roses on her desk, but she just rolled her eyes and kissed him softly. Her shirt had ridden up when she stretched up to her shelves, pushing records out of the way, and she retrieved a bottle of his favourite whisky. Flashing that cheeky grin he loved so much, she poured them both a glass.

"If you're going to force me to go along with your crazy antics for this day, I'm doing so drunk."

"You're such a wonderful girlfriend," he'd teased, but clinked his glass against hers anyway.

"I am, because if I weren't, I'd have gotten tired of you long ago." She downed the contents of the glass, her eye twitching as it burned her throat, and he followed suit, slamming his glass against her desk and pressing himself into her. Her mouth tasted of alcohol and strawberries, and it made him dizzy as she racked her nails across his ribs under his shirt.

It all happened very quickly after that.

Let's just say whisky bottles and highly expensive music equipment do not mix well.

"Beca, please, I'm sorry," he pleads through the door, and he can hear her cursing to herself angrily.

"Screw you, Jesse!" she yells.

"Bec, my darling Valentine, I can fix this."

There's a thump against the door and he realises making light of the situation may not be the best. "It was an accident! You can't seriously hold this against me!"

"You tipped an entire bottle of whisky all over my fucking mixer board!"

"Not on purpose!"

"You still did it!"

"Beca, would you please let me in?" He rests his forehead against the cool paint of the door. "Let me help –"

"You can help by backing off!"

He sighs, placing a hand against the doorframe. He hates it when she gets like this. "Beca, you're doing it again."

"I'm serious Swanson, get the hell away from my door before I –"

"Beca! Simple Minds!"

It goes quiet inside her room, and he wonders if she'll accept his use of their agreed upon phrase to use in times of pure stupidity, when either of them get too ridiculous and too close to making a mountain out of a mole hill. It is not used very often, as they have learnt to be able to work with each other's flaws, supporting rather than antagonizing, soothing instead of making it all so much worse. For a moment, there's a doubt as to whether she'll agree she's being ridiculous. His claiming on the argument veto may have just made it a whole lot worse.

Yet her door swings open and she's glaring at him, muttering, "You're an asshole." But she lets him walk back into the room, and he bites his lip at the drenched towels lying beside her possibly ruined equipment. He's sees a lot of grovelling in his near future.

"Please, Bec, let me help." He goes to grab a towel, to help in any way he can, but she slaps his hand away and keeps her head down as she mops up. When she tips the board, whisky drips out and with every drop Jesse feels more and more helpless.

"How badly have I screwed up?" he asks quietly, perching awkwardly on the edge of her bed. She leans against her desk, her shoulders hunched, and they begin to shake slightly. Realising she's crying, he rises to try and comfort her, and when he puts his arms around her waist she doesn't push him away. His chest presses to her back as her palms press to his wrists. Moving her hair with his chin, he presses a kiss to her pulse point and lets her take calming breaths.

"If I say something ridiculous," she whispers, "will you please try not to laugh?"

"Depends how ridiculous it is." She squeezes his wrist and he chuckles. "Of course, Beca. You can tell me anything."

Her temple rests against his cheek as she speaks softly. "I'm not mad because you ruined something I worked an entire year to raise the money for." She pauses, and he gets the feeling the ridiculous bit is yet to come. "I'm mad at myself because it just feels like a giant, horrible metaphor."

He stills for a moment too long because she twists in his arms, her eyes searching his face. "Say something," she pleads, pressing a fingertip to the crease between his eyebrows. It relaxes some under her touch.

"What do you mean?" he puzzles.

"I mean that…" Her eyes shine with tears and he pulls her to the bed, clutching her hands as she takes a minute to compose herself. "I worked so hard for that thing, and then you came along and spilt whisky on it and now I don't know what to do."

Realisation dawns on him and he pales a little. "Oh."

"No, Jesse, don't think that I-"

"You mean it's a metaphor for how you worked so hard towards your dream, and then you met me and I ruined it." His grasp loosens on her hand and she grabs it back, trying desperately to make him see her perspective.

"No, Jesse, no that's not it. I mean, it is a little but no, you need to listen to me." Her palms are hot on his jaw and he can't look away from her intense gaze. "I didn't factor you into my plan. I didn't factor loving you into my plan."

He stiffens when she says love, because she so rarely says it.

"My plan was to leave high school and go to LA. Then my dad basically blackmailed me into college. So then the plan was college, then LA. That plan was all I needed. All I thought I needed." Her eyes soften and her thumb brushes against his cheek bone. "Music isn't all I need anymore."

"Bec," he whispers, but he doesn't know what to say, so he wraps a hand around one wrist, nodding to let her continue.

"You came into my life and now my plan isn't that clear anymore. We're graduating, Jesse. We're leaving Barden in what, three, four months? And everything is going to change."

"Everything but us," he says fiercely, but she still seems doubtful. She's always been the more practical one, the more realistic one, and he appreciates that she's thought about it. She's considered their future enough to worry that it'll tear them apart, but that worry means she cares. That she doesn't want it to. She wants them to make it through the changes together.

"Oh God, Jesse," she sighs sadly as she rests her forehead against his. "What have you done to me?"

"Ditto." Her eyes are closed and he wishes he could see them, to know how she's feeling.

"You ruined my plan," she groans, but there's a small smile lighting up her face that he kisses gently. "You ruined my mixer."

"It's okay," he says with a smile. "We can fix it."

She glances at him in a way that silently asks which one he means. Pulling her close, he answers her with a simple kiss. It turns into two, which become drawn out and passionate and he can never seem to get over how Beca's hands can be everywhere at once.

"Jesse," she whispers into his neck after a few minutes spent wrapped up in him, "I know how to fix my plan."

Too distracted by kissing along her collarbone, he just hums his encouragement into the bone, making her gasp as it tickles her.

"By putting it together with yours."

He freezes at her shoulder and she barely breathes, waiting for him to react in some way. Slowly his head raises, and Jesse is watching her in quiet disbelief. Did she just say what he thought she said? "I'm sorry repeat that."

She rolls her eyes but this time when she says it, there's a nervous smile flitting across her face. "I can fix my plan by scraping it and instead making one with you." The room is perfectly quiet for a beat, and she adds, "If you want to, that is."

"Well of course I want to," he laughs breathlessly, hovering over her still. "I just… I didn't know if you were ready for that."

She shakes her head. "I'm not, but I might be. When we graduate and I suddenly don't have my annoying man child of a boyfriend there with me."

He swallows thickly because this day has been full of surprise after surprise and he doesn't know if he's processing it all right. "You do know what you're saying right?"

She bites her lip as she nods. "That I want to live in LA. With you."

"In the same apartment." His lip twitches like he's about to smile and she places a kiss on that corner of his mouth.

"With the same bed."

A pause.

"Sharing the same space."

"We basically do that now anyway."

He still looks astounded and she runs a thumb across his lips. She's surprisingly calm and he wonders if she had more of that whisky that he remembers her having. "You're being serious right?"

"Deadly."

"Beca, I…" Ever so slowly, a grin grows on his face. He can't believe she's saying this. How did they go from making out to arguing to moving in together in the space of an hour? "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

She bites her lip as she smiles, her nose crinkling in that way he loves when she gets excited. "Is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?" he teases, and she rolls her eyes because she knows he isn't going to relent until she says it.

"The plan."

"What plan?"

"Our plan."

"Our plan to what?"

She groans and presses her face into his neck so hard that when she speaks, her voice is muffled. "Jesse Swanson, will you move to LA with me?"

His lips are on hers in seconds and he swears there are fireworks bursting from it. Her body raises to meet his and one of her hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other stroking slowly down his side. He groans as she pulls away, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Beca Mitchell, it would be my absolute honour." He grins again and she grins back breathlessly, her hair tousled around her head on the sheets. The hand trailing down his side has reached the waistband of his jeans and she trails it around slowly until it teases the skin below his belly button.

"You know," she breathes against his ear as she raises her head. "I'm thinking we should spend this evening in bed." Her lips graze over that spot behind his ear and he groans quietly. "And maybe some of tomorrow."

His breathing stutters but he manages to make out a strangled, "Sounds perfect."

Those are the last coherent words they both manage to say for quite a while.

* * *

**I don't know how this one happened honestly. It is meant to be based off a prompt from Bonechick3 (Thanks mucho for it by the way, it was such fun to write!) and suddenly it morphed into this, but I actually quite like it, I think it's cute and I don't know, yeah it just happened.**

**Also, I know the day will have passed, but I still have some prompts left and the epilogue thing people have been demanding for JAGTJ Valentine's. So I'll still be updating this as I make my way through but I might not update for about a week as I have a lot of stuff going on this weekend. However, if there is anything else you'd like to see, or any prompt words or something, then PM me or review and let me know! I will get them all done best I can.**

**Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought! **


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